


Afterglow

by reallyamerica



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dialogue Heavy, Fix-It, Fluff, Komahina - Freeform, M/M, Miscommunication, Neo World Program (Dangan Ronpa), Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Neo World Program (Dangan Ronpa), Semi-, Slow Burn, They Deserve This, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trigger warning for sh, and I don’t want it to hurt or upset anyone, boys being dumb, but its not really slowburn trust me im the irl king of slowburn, danganronpa - Freeform, dr3, i deserve this, i think it’s gonna seem like slow burn maybe because it’s so wordy and, kamukoma - Freeform, sdr2 - Freeform, so lemme have it and lemme know if you like it too, there isn’t actually any in this but I reference Nagito’s scars on his legs from syo in udg, this is essentially just a (surprising no one) self indulgent fic about Nagito and Hajime after the, this started as a tiny one scene drabble of Morning After softness between them but then
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25684726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reallyamerica/pseuds/reallyamerica
Summary: Nagito and Hajime have a lot of air to clear after everything they’ve been through. Everything they’ve put each other through. There are a lot of unresolved feelings, on both sides, but not all of them are... negative.//post-sdr2 semi-canon-compliant very indulgent komahina cuteness with a little bit o’ spice and miscommunication for flavor!
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, Kamukura Izuru/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 35
Kudos: 314





	1. Chapter 1

_“Hey! Can you hear me?”_

  
  
  


Nagito had had his words thrown back at him before, and had it done by Hajime, too, but this was different.

When he had approached Hajime knocked out on the beach, he had felt an inexplicable sense that they were kindred spirits. Which was not typically something he’d ever even dare to think. About _anyone_. He’d quickly felt guilty for it, and then later was told by Hajime that they were nothing alike, only to find in the end that maybe there really was a shred of truth to it after all. But it began with those same words, but from his own mouth, instead.

  
  
  


_“Hey… Can you hear me?”_

  
  
  


Of course, when you consider the fact that their first meeting was not only not really their first, and was a simulation, it maybe took a bit of the sheen off. Perhaps especially so given that they had actually tried to kill one another the very first time they met. Circumstances notwithstanding, there’d been something special about that encounter, too. All that aside, but not forgotten, neither of them are still the people they were back then or even back in the program. So, damn him for being a tad sentimental over the comparably more normal of the two beginnings they shared. 

For whatever reason, whether he meant to do so or not, Hajime recreated (or at least mirrored) it, for him. When Nagito had pried his eyes open, blinking dryly and almost painfully, to finally see the real world again, the first sight he was met with was Hajime leaned over him, waiting. A part of him wondered if he had instilled even a fraction of the sense of comfort and reassurance and peace he felt to Hajime back on the beach, before he quickly concluded that that was impossible. Just knowing Hajime cared enough to be there was a billion times more than he could ask for.

And he didn’t leave. Which was... strange. There was plenty to do— fixing up the hotel and cottages, keeping an eye on island security, staying in regular contact with Naegi, and everyone else constantly creating little projects and plans meant there was generally an endless stream of pulls on one's attention. And yet, when Nagito was still adjusting and couldn’t just go out and about, Hajime never went anywhere. When he tried to ask him about it (or rather, suggest he devote his talent to something more worthwhile than trash like himself), he simply brushed it off and said he had helped everyone settle in after they woke up. Nagito believed this at first, because he wouldn’t guess of all people he’d be the one to receive special treatment. But then, even after he was released from constantly being watched over and from the incessant checkups by Mikan, Hajime still came and found him at the restaurant every meal of every day, and stopped by his cottage regularly, not even always having anything specific to talk about or to do, but still coming by all the same.

Nagito decided not to question it. Or try not to, anyway. Even when Souda, Mikan, and Hajime came to him about replacing his unusable hand with a prosthetic the three of them had custom designed and constructed for him, and Hajime repeated the whole never-leaving-his-side for the entire healing process, again. When Hajime spent considerably more time with him than with anyone else on the island. Or when Hajime quietly started bringing him little gifts all the time, just like he had in the program, only now there was no reward system in place for such friendliness, so it made Nagito incredibly confused. Distressingly so.

Not to mention, on top of the nonsensicality of all this as it was, Nagito had a twisted knot of guilt in the pit of his stomach. They all did, when it came down to it, given their shared pasts, but this specific one wasn’t even about the abominable atrocities they’d committed in the name of despair. That was an entirely separate psychological harness of chains in need of disentanglement, and at least they were all in on that one together. This snarled mess was in regards to Hajime.

Nagito didn’t often experience genuine regret over his actions, anymore. Partially because he, like many in the world at this point and definitely like the others on the island, had been through, done, and seen such incomprehensibly awful things, that while one might occasionally feel sorry, one hardly ever thought about what might’ve been or what could’ve been done differently. At least, not too often. Or you’d never do anything else. Also partially because he _had_ and still lived much of his life very passively. Indifferent to which way the winds would blow for him personally, and not doing much to take his life in any chosen direction, save for that which he did with the intention of helping to make the world a more hopeful place. He fell back on his luck to either carry him through or drop him in the dirt. Whatever happened, happened.

But he regretted the way he had treated Hajime in the program, after he learned he’d been a reserve course student. Ideology aside, for once, Hajime had been the only person to treat him with any semblance of real kindness. Maybe he wasn’t overly sweet or considerate with his words, but he brought him gifts (paying attention to what he actually liked and disliked, someone as unimportant as _him_ ), went out of his way to spend time with him no matter what he’d done or said, even when everyone was uncomfortable around him, tried to accommodate some of his more eccentric practices in attempting to avoid tempting fate. Hajime made an effort to truly understand Nagito. Even though he didn’t quite seem to get there, completely, he was sure there wasn’t a person alive or dead who did any better. It was unbelievable, something so far beyond what he could imagine anyone doing for him that it felt like a dream. And Nagito had returned that unfathomable generosity with cruelty, coldness, and disdain. Which wasn’t okay in and of itself, but even more than that, he was _wrong_. Hajime was so much more than Nagito could ever be…

And after _that_ , he did Nagito the kindness of being there when he returned to reality, and sticking with him afterward. 

Nagito felt wracked with guilt. It was practically unbearable. So, he started to distance himself from Hajime. He’d say he was tired, encourage him to spend time with Kazuichi, Fuyuhiko, Mahiru, find a moment to slip away by himself whenever they were in group settings, and so on. It eased his mind, if only a little, to know he was releasing Hajime from the obligation of wasting energy on him. He figured this was an easy method to let Hajime off the hook. That things would be better this way.

Or so he _thought_.

After just over a week of weaning Hajime off his presence, Nagito was headed to Rocketpunch from his cottage late at night to fetch himself something to snack on. Hands tucked in his pockets, he passed a gaggle of some of the others in swim suits walking in the direction of the pool, but they said nothing to him and he didn’t meet any of their eyes. As he trodded along the path to the market, he heard a second set of footsteps crunching on the dirt and gravel, but didn’t think much of it. Probably just someone heading back from one of the other spots on the island for the evening. It didn’t distract him from his journey to the store.

Just as he went in, a hand gripped the doorframe just behind him.

“Hey!”

Nagito’s shoulders tensed, startled. But the initial reaction quickly subsided. He turned around to see Hajime standing there.

“Hello, Hajime. Come to pick something up, too?” He asked, pulling his coat a little tighter around himself. 

Hajime shook his head.

“Are you avoiding me?” He said, instead of responding to Nagito’s small talk. He looked upset.

“Whatever gave you that impression?” Nagito replied calmly, quirking an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth just barely upturned.

Hajime let go of the frame and stepped inside. The ever present sound of seagulls dulled as the door closed behind him.

“That’s not an answer, and I don’t feel like repeating questions at each other until it’s morning, Nagito. Are you avoiding me or not?” His stare was boring directly into Nagito’s eyes as he spoke.

Nagito tilted his head, shrugging slightly.

“You could say that. Though, I wouldn’t. I don’t think my giving you the chance not to waste your time on worthless trash like me is the same as what it seems like you think I’m doing.” He answered honestly, a small full smile on his face. Hajime did not return this pleasant expression.

“Stop talking like that, you’re not worthless. Ridiculous, sure, but you’re not the only one. If being around you was a waste of my time I wouldn’t do it. It’s actually pretty presumptuous of you to try and make that decision for me.” Hajime bit back sharply. He folded his arms in front of his chest, still staring Nagito down.

Nagito put his hands up apologetically, brows raised again, now at a concerned angle.

“Hajime,” he breathed, shaking his head slightly, “I’m not trying to make decisions for you. I was just trying to spare you the trouble. _Really_. Surely, there must be more important things for you to w—“

“I’ll let you know when I have better things to do, okay? If you don’t wanna hang out with me, _fine_ , but don’t try to pass it off with your usual self-deprecating nonsense. I don’t need it.” Hajime cut him off, finally tearing his gaze off to the side, away from Nagito’s face.

“That’s not... Do you really think I would do this because _I_ don’t want to be around _you_?” Nagito couldn’t help but laugh. “Why would you think that?” He asked, incredulous.

But he thought he might know why. 

It gnawed at him.

The store was so quiet he could hear the distant sound of waves crashing on the shore, as they stood there.

Hajime slowly uncrossed his arms.

“You’re serious? No weird manipulation or deflection, you just genuinely thought that this would be what I wanted?” He said. Nagito nodded, and Hajime shook his head.

“See, this is what I mean about you being ridiculous. Believe it or not, I do think about my own actions and ideas, and am voluntarily choosing to see you, with complete awareness of my own motivations. Because I want to.” Hajime stated, grinning, now. It made Nagito’s heart feel just a little restricted beneath his ribcage.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insinuate that you’re not fully capable of thinking for yourself and making your own choices. I know very well that an Ultimate such as yourself is much more qualified to make decisions than someone like myself. But I must admit, I don’t really get it.” Nagito told him. He chuckled, only this time sort of darkly.

Hajime took a deep breath. His eyes darkened in a way that made something in Nagito’s chest hitch, a little, and went sort of distant.

“You know, I don’t feel totally the same as I did before.” He began, softly. “None of us do, I know that, but I mean… Even before the world went up in flames. When I was freshly _reborn_ , or whatever. The constant, omnipresent, inescapable boredom. I feel fine, again. Or, well, as fine as any of us can, right? It’s... manageable. I feel kinda normal, and this time around I _like_ it. Whatever I am now, even though it comes with a lot of baggage, I think it’s the best version of myself. I’m okay. But I still _remember_ what being so bored felt like. And I am terrified, all the time, that the state I’m in right now is temporary, and that the boredom is going to come back in full force, when I least expect it, even worse than before, and never go away again. It _horrifies_ me, that I could possibly still be able to feel like that. _Be_ like that. I know you understand, in some way, because… it’s not that unlike how She made us all feel. It’s just that that part of me, who I was– _am_ –doesn’t even necessarily require true despair to get going. Just stagnation.” Hajime had taken several steps across the market's linoleum floor, moving closer to Nagito as he monologued. His eyes had refocused to right in front of him. He lifted a hand and grabbed his shoulder, kinda tightly.

Nagito felt frozen in place.

“You’re a lot of things, Nagito. But not _one_ of them is boring.” Hajime concluded.

This hung heavy in the air for several incredibly long moments before Hajime released his arm, gave a nod, and started to move back toward the door.

Nagito, who felt like his existence had been on pause for the last minute, could finally breathe and move and think again. He took a half-step after the turned back that was walking away from him.

“Hajime! I… _ah_ , I’m sorry. For before, in the program. I should never have—“ Nagito tried, but he was cut off.

“I know.” Hajime said, with a small, forgiving smile, and then left.


	2. Chapter 2

So Nagito stopped fighting it. He wouldn’t try and oppose Hajime’s insistence on spending time on him. He still didn’t understand, because he knew for a fact that not being entirely boring simply _could not_ be the only motivation for Hajime to continue being so relentlessly patient and kind to him, (that was impossible and most certainly untrue), but he tried to continue to not question it. He decided to attempt to just enjoy it, for however long it lasted. It was more than he deserved.

But curiosity is a strangely powerful force.

He finally began to wonder exactly what angle he was working when, one night, they were up late reading together in the lobby of the hotel. Hajime was reading some very thick novel that Naegi had got for him, while Nagito was curled up in the chair beside his, reading a poetry book he’d found at the library. It was sometime after 3 am, and the sound of the entire area was quiet. Only a low hum of insects and the rhythm of the ocean accompanied the sound of turning pages. Some of the others were night owls too, but tonight it seemed everyone had already turned in. The pair reading were the only ones out in the quiet of the night, and it felt a little like they were the only two people left in the world. 

Nagito rubbed his eye, as he felt the slightest wave of sleepiness start to wash over him. Normally, his nearly ever present insomnia would prevent him from feeling on the brink of slipping under, almost at all, let alone while sitting up and not in his own space, but he was feeling especially cozy, for whatever reason.

Hajime seemed to notice his tiredness.

“Did you wanna turn in? We can read together again tomorrow night, if you need sleep.” He offered, closing his novel partially, around a finger.

Nagito shook his head quickly.

“I would _of course_ enjoy doing this again, but I’m alright for a while, still, tonight! Don’t worry! If you’re sick of me, we can be done, but don’t stop on my account. I’m always good with staying with you, as long as you want.” He waved a hand dismissively, gripping his book a little too hard with the other as he replied.

“Would you be more comfortable reading somewhere you can fall asleep, though? Because, if so, we should head back to the cottages. It’s no big deal.” Hajime suggested. He was sat forward in his seat, angled more toward Nagito as he spoke.

“Would you still like to read together? I don’t want to interrupt you if you’re enjoying yourself being with me this evening, somehow.” Nagito replied, warmly, despite the self-deprecating nature of his words.

Hajime dragged his free hand down the center of his face, irritably, sighing.

“Nagito, we’re doing it again. We can’t keep deferring giving solid answers to one another and just ask questions back and forth. You’re tired and deserve to be able to comfortably relax, I’m having a fun night just reading with you—why don’t you just come crash at my cottage? You can read until you pass out, and then you won’t have to worry about being woken up by everyone passing you to get breakfast in the morning. And we can still hangout for as long as possible, tonight. Cool?”

Nagito’s eyes widened.

“Your… cottage?”

Hajime nodded slowly, exaggeratedly, lips pressed in a flat line. 

“Mhm, yup. The place where I live. Room, bathroom, cute little mailbox out front. Yes or no?” Hajime asked directly, after a segue through vaguely sarcastic commentary.

Nagito’s gaze dipped to the floor as he sort of wrung the book in his hands. He didn’t want to be an intruder or a bother, but he also knew to some degree that saying so would irritate Hajime even more than just accepting his gracious offer to host their little book club evening in his home. He swallowed thickly.

“I, ah… well, _sure_. Okay.”

If he wasn’t sure it couldn’t be the case, he’d venture to read the reaction to his agreeing to go that showed on Hajime’s face to be one that said he was excited by the prospect of him coming over. But that would be silly. He’d been to his cottage before, and even if he hadn’t it wasn’t like his visiting would be anything special or worth getting worked up about. It wasn’t like he was anybody important. 

As they made their way to Hajime’s cottage, Nagito watched the reflection of the moon dance on the surface of the pool, thinking. He was trying to figure out the best way to minimize his presence while occupying some of Hajime’s space for the night. Hajime was whistling a crisp, clear melody, walking just ahead of him, unaware.

Nagito glanced toward his own cottage as their footsteps sounded on the boardwalk, wondering if he should take this opportunity to slip away, just as Hajime unlocked his door.

“After you,” He said, ushering Nagito in with a gesture.

Nagito complied.

After stepping inside, he hovered in the middle of the room, unsure what to do with himself. Hajime had slipped his shoes off by the door, loosened his tie, and was undoing the top couple buttons off his shirt. And then he noticed Nagito’s indecision.

“You can sit wherever, make yourself at home. I can move stuff off the couch, if you want, whatever works. Just, don’t sit on the floor or something. That’d make me feel like a bad host.” He said with a slight laugh.

Nagito didn’t want to create extra work for Hajime, but that left only one option for where to sit. His bed. He took small steps over to it, and sat very tentatively, right on the edge. Taking up as little room as he could.

He looked up to see Hajime watching him with an unreadable expression.

“Uh, can I take your coat, at least? You look super uncomfortable.” Hajime commented. 

Nagito slid out of his jacket, standing up again and moving to cross to Hajime, who got up fast, took it, and motioned for Nagito to sit back down. Which he did. Folding the coat partway, Hajime laid it on top of his dresser, shaking his head.

“The point of you coming here was so you could relax while you read and eventually sleep. You don’t have to stay all stiff and stuff, what would make you more comfortable?” He asked.

Nagito waved his hands in front of himself, head tilted down.

“You don’t need to worry about that, I’m perfectly fine, it doesn’t matter about my comfortability, Hajime. Just having me here is incredibly generous of you.” He answered, almost frantic, but speaking evenly nonetheless. 

Hajime frowned. Which made Nagito do the same when he looked up and saw it.

“It matters to me, that’s why I asked. So, instead of trying to determine what I care about _for_ me, how about you just answer my question.” He had a look of determination in his eyes, one that Nagito couldn’t help but find inspiring, even in such a silly context as demanding to know how to make someone so worthless more _comfy_. Nagito shrugged slightly.

“I suppose I could… recline somewhat. And maybe take off my jeans before I get too close to falling asleep. There’s really not much I need to be quite content, Hajime, honestly. Your hosting abilities are not in question, I assure you.” Nagito said gently, clasping his hands together as he spoke.

Hajime looked… flustered? Why, Nagito couldn’t fathom, but he appeared to shake it off rather quickly, clearing his throat. 

“Uh huh, thanks. Well, good, then. Mind if I sit by you?” He asked, sort of softly.

Nagito shook his head rapidly.

“Not at all! Please, it’s your home!” He reminded Hajime, making an effort to scoot to the far side of the bed as quickly as he could.

As Hajime settled on the bed beside him, adjusting the pillows to prop himself at an angle, Nagito opened his book again and began to read. They sat in comfortable silence like that for some time. Until Nagito felt his eyelids begin to droop against his will, again.

This time, Hajime didn’t catch it, but Nagito didn’t want to bother him about his sleepiness for the second time in one night, so he shuffled to the side of the bed and stood up partway, undoing his jeans and slipping them off. When he moved back to the way he’d been seated, however, he saw Hajime looking his way anyway. His face looked warm, and Nagito couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze skimmed over the raised lines across his thighs that peaked out just below the bottom edge of his boxers. It seemed he wanted to comment, but thought better of it, meeting Nagito’s eyes instead.

“Um, feel free to get under the covers, if you’d like. It can get chilly at night, and you have, like, no insulation on your body, whatsoever, so…” His voice sounded so small that Nagito couldn’t help but laugh a little, nodding.

“I am something of a waif, huh?” He agreed with a tiny smile, lifting the covers and slotting himself beneath them. “I suppose it’s rather striking when I’m not rendered totally shapeless by my jacket. I hope the sight hasn’t unsettled you.” He went on, but his usual sincere tone wasn’t there in the self-deprecation, and the grin never left his face.

It was contagious, apparently, because Hajime was smiling too.

“Oh, I’m completely unsettled. I think I’m gonna have nightmares.” Hajime replied, chuckling and setting his book aside.

“Please accept my sincerest apologies, in that case.” Nagito responded, yawning as he finished speaking.

Seeing this, Hajime reached over the side of the bed to the lamp and clicked it off.

“I’ll consider it.” He answered softly.

Nagito slid further down the pillow he was leaning on, eyes half-lidded.

“I certainly hope so, or… or I won’t,” he yawned again, stretching a little, “I won’t know _what_ to do.” As he said this, his eyelids felt too heavy to hold open any longer, so he let them fall shut.

And must have fell asleep almost exactly at the same time. Because when he opened them again, sure it couldn’t be more than a few minutes later, the clock on the wall showed that almost two hours had passed. But more importantly, Hajime was pressed against his back, an arm draped over his waist, with a knee tucked partially between his legs. 

Nagito instantly felt sick to his stomach from a combination of butterflies and guilt. He couldn’t believe he’d taken such advantage of Hajime’s geniality and forced him into such an awkward situation, he wanted to—

Before another thought could form in his mind, he felt Hajime pulling him to turn over to face him, and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly instinctually. Hajime pulled him closer, so that Nagito’s head was tucked against his chest below his chin. Peaking out one eye, barely open, Nagito could see that at some point Hajime had changed into a soft sleep shirt, and that he was breathing evenly. Relaxed. Nagito was confused.

He laid there, trying to map out exactly what was happening, for some time, before Hajime pulled back slightly and started to tilt his head down toward Nagito. Surely to check and see if he was awake, so he could extract himself from this obviously very weird position and confront Nagito for allowing this to happen. Once again, Nagito squeezed his eyes shut before Hajime even finished moving, feeling terrible inside.

But Hajime didn’t seem to know or care. He just adjusted himself so that Nagito and he were face to face, which Nagito could tell despite the fact that his eyes were closed because he could feel Hajime’s breath ghosting over his lips. He was incredibly still for a moment, so still that Nagito was pretty sure he was holding his breath, but before he could attempt to discern why he would be doing that, their lips were pressed together.

For a moment, just a moment, Nagito felt a bright, hot, excitement in his mind. But it was immediately replaced with a feeling of disgust with himself, for being so selfish with his emotions that Hajime felt he had to do this for him, and an inexplicable panic.

His heart hammered so hard in his chest that it was painful, and he wanted to run away, but some blend of embarrassment, shame, and nonsensical fear prevented him from moving a single muscle. The logical part of Nagito’s brain told him he was experiencing shock, but the rest of his brain just held him frozen in place under threat of the world falling apart if he didn’t.

Meanwhile, Hajime’s lips gently pulled away from his, but he could tell without looking that Hajime held his face quite close, still. He imagined he was staring at Nagito, waiting for some kind of response, but even if he wasn’t stuck completely rigid, he had no idea what to do or say. What reply is one supposed to have to someone providing you with what they think you need (even though it had always seemed they didn’t understand your feelings, despite your attempts at communicating them) out of the kindness of their heart but to their own certain discomfort?

Even more confusing, after several agonizingly long moments of total stillness, again, Hajime pulled completely away from Nagito and turned to his other side, so that his back was to him.

Nagito lay motionless, trying to process what had just happened. He began to wonder if he had just dreamed it, but the way he could still feel the heat of Hajime’s breath and the lingering pressure of his mouth against his own made him positive that he hadn’t, but then he had a thought. Maybe he just created the idea that Hajime had been awake at all. Maybe he’d been asleep the whole time, maybe having a dream, maybe he’d just accidentally rolled into an unintentional kiss. That had to be it, that was the only explanation. In which case, Nagito’s selfishness was absolutely unparalleled. He’d taken advantage of a sleeping Hajime, he should’ve pulled away! He began to think he had the worst luck, as he often did, before he could hear Hajime scolding him for blaming everything on his talent, in his head. He was on the verge of hyperventilating.

But Hajime eventually rolled back over and took him in his arms again, further twisting the guilt in his stomach, and held him close. Even nuzzling his nose into the nape of Nagito’s neck. Even though he felt morally bankrupt for doing so, Nagito couldn’t help but stay there being held, indulging in the way this closeness made a feeling he couldn’t describe bloom through his chest.


	3. Chapter 3

When Nagito woke up to find himself in Hajime’s bed the following morning, he felt completely disoriented for a moment, before he remembered the strange, tender intimacy of the night before. It had been delightfully odd, and unexpected, but it was nothing that shattered Nagito’s perception of the strange dynamic he had with Hajime, from Hajime’s end. It had only been cuddling... _ right _ ? Only Nagito had to know the depth of his own freakishness.

But as his senses came to him more fully, eyes squinting at the sunlight that was streaming through the curtain and casting shapes across the blankets, nose smelling the lingering scent of Hajime on his pillows, he heard the shower running. Just as he was thinking he should leave now, while he could, to allow Hajime his privacy and to cut off this already extremely rude overstay of his welcome, the water was turned off with a squeak.

The door to the bathroom opened with a puff of steam, and Hajime walked out wearing a towel tied around his waist.

“Oh,” he said, spotting Nagito, “you’re up. I hope I didn’t wake you up with the shower.”

“Not at all. And even if you did, you’d have every right, as this is your home, and my presence is an imposition.” Nagito assured him, sitting up. He leaned over the side of the bed to grab his jeans.

Hajime rifled through his dresser drawers, pulling out clean clothes to wear. Nagito did  _ not _ watch the contours of his shoulders and back as he did so, even as he tried to tug back on his pants without getting out of bed. That would be entirely selfish and inappropriate. Not that he wasn’t already guilty of being both.

“If that was the case, I wouldn’t’ve invited you over in the first place. Anyway, how’d you sleep?” Hajime asked, turning back to face him as he slowly buttoned up his shirt with one hand while the other held his towel in place.

“Ah, surprisingly very well, actually. Forgive me if I kept you awake. I’m prone to occasional fits of talking pretty loudly in my sleep. It started just before I was first diagnosed, a possible side effect of the dementia, and has continued to this day, so far as I’m aware, even though I’m stable.” Nagito replied nonchalantly, straightening out the way his shirt fell at the top of his jeans, and forcing any thoughts of the night before to the very back of his mind.

Hajime seemed to take an extra few seconds to process before responding.

“You didn’t, but I did hear you since I’ve been up this morning. You were mumbling something about playing Go and being ‘hopelessly incompetent’. It was funny.” He told him, wearing a smile that almost (though, it  _ couldn’t be _ , of course) seemed fond. 

Nagito felt a rush of warmth in his chest. He really was ridiculous, just like Hajime said.

“I’m glad I could provide you amusement, then. Thank you so much for letting me stay here, by the way. It was… nice.” He said, earnestly.

“No worries, you’re welcome to come over pretty much whenever.” Hajime replied, assuredly just being polite, and shuffling back into the bathroom with his pants, but only shutting the door partially. He continued talking through the door. “You wanna come to breakfast? I promised Kaz I’d look over some schematics he has for modifying the islands’ water filtration and desalination systems over coffee today, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind the company, and we can head back and chill out after.”

Nagito picked at the skin around his fingernails. His eyes focused there as well. It was starkly pink with irritation, in contrast with the rest of his pale coloring.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude any more than I already have.” He responded simply.

Hajime re-emerged from the bathroom, drawing Nagito’s attention, hair still damp, but drying, now fully dressed, and sighed.

“You wouldn’t be, I’m  _ inviting _ you. You in?” He asked, pointedly.

Nagito stood from the bed, stepping near Hajime so he could grab his jacket from the top of his dresser and fold it over his arm. He bit his lip for a moment.

Hajime seemed unruffled, confirming Nagito’s theories about his ignorance to the events of the night before, which was both damning and comforting at the same time. Though he couldn’t be sure to what end, it was clear that Hajime wasn’t only spending time with Nagito to make him happy, though that was almost definitely a part of it, but also for some reason of his own. And Nagito didn’t want to upset whatever plan he had in mind, and therefore concluded the best course of action would be not to resist Hajime’s requests for his presence. He could figure out how to stop his incredible selfishness from running rampant in his own time, and do his best just to keep Hajime from being upset with him, for now.

Nagito swallowed a little dryly.

“If… you want me to come along, then I’m happy to. Thanks again for letting me crash here, and including me in your plans. It’s very kind.” He replied.

Hajime shook his head lightly, and clapped Nagito on the shoulder warmly.

“Let’s just go, okay?” And with that, he headed out the front door of the cottage.

Trailing behind, Nagito pulled on his coat, and tucked his hands in his pockets. Outside, a few of the others were making their way to the hotel restaurant as well. Hiyoko and Mahiru strolled hand in hand alongside the pool, up ahead, laughing together. Sonia came out of her door and smiled brightly when she saw Nagito, waving. Akane ran by in a bikini, Ibuki on her back, and cannon-balled into the pool with a yell.

When they got to the restaurant, Kazuichi was not there yet. But that wasn’t much of a surprise. Teruteru was humming loudly in the kitchen, so Hajime went in and Nagito followed. He was making omelettes, and had cut up fresh fruit. Nagito attempted to just slip by to the loaf of bread beside the toaster, but Hajime caught him by the elbow and asked Teruteru to prepare them each a plate, as well as one for Kazuichi, which he happily agreed to do. While they waited, Hajime grabbed a few glasses from a cabinet and went to the fridge. He asked Nagito what he wanted, and rolled his eyes when he shrugged, grabbing a gallon of milk and a gallon of orange juice. He poured three glasses of orange juice, and then also got coffee in three mugs and added milk. Balancing all the beverages in his hands, he motioned for Nagito to hold the kitchen door open for him, which he did. At the same time, Teruteru finished their plates and trotted after him with their food.

Just as they set everything down on a table at the back of the restaurant near the window, Kazuichi came strolling up the hotel stairs, whistling and twirling a wrench around his index finger.

“Morning! Smells awesome in here!” He greeted, half-jogging over and almost hopping into a seat. “Hey, Nagito, here to review my ideas with Hajime?”

Nagito returned his smile, but shook his head.

“I don’t think I’d have much of anything to add, I’m just tagging along. But I’m sure what you’ve come up with is excellent!” He replied, taking a seat beside Kazuichi, who was already digging into the omelette in front of him.

“Ha, well, I appreciate your confidence in me, man. There’re a few kinks in the details I’m hoping Hajime can help me iron out, but I think the gist is there.” The mechanic said around a mouthful of egg. Hajime took his seat as well, eyeing Kazuichi’s messiness and then sharing a look with Nagito about it.

Nagito looked down at his plate to hide his grin and stifle a small laugh.

“I’m sure you’ve got it, honestly, but if there’s anything I can do to help work things through, I will.” Hajime said, taking a sip of his juice.

“Yeah, I know, but before we really get down to business— what’s been up? How’s the hand?” Kauizhi addressed them both, and then Nagito specifically, flexing his own hand that mirrored Nagito’s prosthetic.

Nagito held his hand up, slightly.

“Wonderful. I haven’t had any trouble since the surgery, it’s truly a miracle only Ultimates like yourselves could be capable of. I am deeply in the two of your and Mikan’s debt for such a gift.” He told him earnestly, his eyes on the limb in question, gently curling and uncurling his robotic fingers, the metal glinting in the morning sunlight.

When he looked up he saw Kazuichi looked proud and embarrassed simultaneously, and Hajime was staring at him with something that might’ve been wonder. It wasn’t, but it  _ might’ve been _ . 

“Ah, but don’t let me derail the purpose of this meeting, I’m sure you don’t need me distracting you. What’s this about improving the water desalination processes on the island?” Nagito redirected the topic away from himself, looking back down, and pushing the fruit on his plate around with his fork.

So Kazuichi jumped into discussion about his plans and the mechanical parts he’d need to have Naegi get for them both for this project as well as for regular maintenance and upkeep of all the various machinery on the island. And after a few moments of still glancing at Nagito, Hajime joined in with suggestions and commentary.

Nagito sat back and observed his friends at work, as impressed by them as ever.


	4. Chapter 4

Enjoying the afternoon sun, Nagito sat, singing softly to himself under his breath, reading a book beside the pool. He’d rolled his jeans up to his knees, and had one foot hanging over the edge into the water. It was helping him not to overheat. Fully engaged in the story he was consuming, he didn’t notice a figure approaching until Mikan tripped over her own foot and caught herself on his shoulder.

He was a little startled, but when he looked up and saw her teary eyes, he gave her the warmest smile he could.

“Lucky that I was here or you might’ve scraped your knees, or even have fallen into the pool, huh? I hope you’re alright! Where are you off to, Mikan?” He said, closing his book. 

Mikan appeared to force herself to take a moment to compose herself instead of breaking down crying, and then returned Nagito’s smile, standing upright and releasing her grip on him.

“I w-was coming to see you, actually. I saw you sitting here and w-wanted to talk to you. I hope I’m n-n-not b-bothering you too much!” She said apologetically, and he waved a hand dismissively as fast as he could. Part of him wondered if he sounded like her to other people, sometimes. But he put the thought aside.

“Not a bit, please, feel free to join me.” He patted the edge of the pool.

Wobbling as she did so, Mikan lowered herself to the ground, kneeling. It didn’t look like there was any way it could be comfortable, but Nagito thought it better not to comment on that.

“Kazuichi tells me you’ve been happy with your hand. Is that r-right?” She asked nervously. Her hands were folded in her lap, but her knuckles were white with how tightly she held them. He nodded enthusiastically.

“Yup! I was praising the work you all did to give it to me to him just the other day. Did you want to come check on that, as the nurse who oversaw my surgery and recovery?” Nagito dipped his other foot into the water as he spoke, swinging them and watching the water ripple from the movement.

Mikan shook her head energetically.

“N-no, actually. But I’m very very glad to hear that. I was looking to invite you to join me and a few of the others, tonight. It’s just… w-we never see you a-at group stuff unless Hajime’s brought you along, a-a-and I thought it’d be nice if you knew that we like it when you’re around. S-seeing as I don’t think you know that, until someone tells it to you, specifically. I… understand that. And I d-don’t want you to be left out because you don’t believe the invitation is really open. Um, s-so, would you want to come hangout with us at the music venue? Ibuki and Gundham want to put on a play soon, so some of us are going to help build and d-decorate set pieces, and eat snacks, later. We’d l-l-love to have you.” Her eyes were practically sparkling as she looked eagerly at Nagito, batting her long lashes. She was even leaned forward slightly on her knees. Which just had to be pressing the rough cement further into her skin.

Nagito clasped his hands together, giving a single nod.

“I’m flattered you thought of having me there. It sounds like it’ll be a fun night! What time should I arrive?”

  
  
\- - -  
  
  


Later that same day, arms loaded with a ridiculous amount of snacks (he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to bring, but he didn’t want to disappoint), Nagito made his way to the Titty Typhoon. Mikan had been so thrilled when he agreed to show up that she’d stood too quickly and tripped and caught herself on him, again. Only this time with her midsection on top of his head. After a profuse and extensive apology, she had left, and he had finished the chapter of his book he’d been reading, before heading to his cottage to take a shower.

Now, the sun was just set, and the evening air felt refreshing on his skin. He’d accidentally gotten his cheeks and shoulders a little sunburnt.

When he got to the venue, Souda was just walking up, as well. He seemed surprised when he saw Nagito, but then he quickly jogged ahead and held the door open for him and his mountain of packaged food.

Inside, Ibuki was standing in front of the stage, looking concentrated, as Gundham alternated holding up two different fabrics in front of what seemed to be an upholstered lounge sofa.

“I dunno— the grey one looks more fancy, but the red one really says _BAM_ , IN YOUR FACE, y’know?” She commented, and Gundham tilted his head.

“You know I’ve already cast my vote for the velvet with the fleur de lis pattern, as I think it best suits the power and stature of the character who will sit upon this furniture. But I’m inclined to agree that the red one definitely has a certain _oomph._ ” He replied.

As Nagito watched this interaction, he unloaded his snack haul onto the counter of the bar, arranging everything as nicely as he could. Souda had helped with a few things, but when he saw Hiyoko huffing and trying to move a huge bundle of plywood by herself, he’d run off to help her with it. Just as Nagito emptied his arms completely, Mahiru came up behind him and linked their elbows together.

“Heya, Nagito, how’re you?” She asked brightly, pulling him off to the side of the stage, away from the bar, where Sonia was now setting to mixing up a platter of drinks.

Nagito was surprised to see that ‘some of us’ apparently meant nearly everyone on the island. But he looked to Mahiru and grinned.

“Quite well. You?” She crumpled her nose at this response, finding it unsatisfactory.

“I’m great, but I’m much more interested in what you’ve been up to! You and Hajime have been basically inseparable since you woke up! I want the juicy deets, and I want ‘em now.” She said in a demanding tone. Nagito felt a tiny bit woozy, but mostly confused by this line of inquiry.

“He’s been very kind, and very present in my life, yes. I’ve enjoyed spending time with him. I’m not sure there’re really any ‘deets’ to spare, though, I’m afraid.” He responded, as Mahiru tugged him to sit down at a table with her. She plopped down and crossed her legs and folded a fist beneath her chin.

“You say that, but I don’t think I believe it. You two seem… different, now. Good different, I think, but like, haven’t you been having sleepovers and stuff? Don’t leave me hanging, I wanna know where you two are at! I pinky promise I won’t say anything to anybody else if you talk to me!” She genuinely held out a pinky as she spoke, and Nagito stared at her.

“There’s really nothing to tell. And I wasn’t aware our staying the night together was public news? Or are you just keeping an especially close eye on myself and Hajime and our sleeping habits, for some reason?” He asked, quirking a brow. She made a face.

“Oh, come on! I don’t think anybody here hasn’t noticed the amount of time you two spend together, and how you are with each other! I was just curious about what y’all are doing, and all! But if you don’t wanna tell me—“ She spotted something over his shoulder, and stood up, walking away without finishing her sentence to him. “Hey! You are absolutely _not_ going to just yank that down, you’re gonna break something or hurt somebody!” She called to someone working on stage, leaving Nagito seated alone.

He turned his chair around to look at the stage, wanting to take his mind off the unfinished conversation he’d just been a part of. Kazuichi and Gundham were attempting to change the curtain out, and Mahiru had appointed herself foreman of the operation, and was barking out instructions. Hiyoko was filing her nails from where she sat perched on the pile of wood Kazuichi had helped her move, watching the curtain fiasco unfold. He smiled fondly to himself as he watched them all. Sonia flitted by, handing him a screwdriver to drink before gliding over to everyone else to pass the rest of the tray of beverages out.

Just then, Mikan came in, and she squealed when she saw Nagito, running over. She skidded to a stop, precariously, right beside the table.

“I’m so happy you’re here! Have you been r-recruited into the cast or crew, yet?” She asked, bouncing on her feet.

Nagito laughed, shaking his head.

“No, I haven’t. Should I be expecting that?”

“Ibuki is really trying to get e-everyone in on this production, so I’d bet she’ll try to rope you in, too!” Mikan told him, sounding pleased with the concept.

“Is that so? I don’t think I’m really especially capable of helping with anything in particular, but I’m more than happy to lend a hand however I can.” As he was saying this, Nagito watched Ibuki spin on her heel onstage (her ears must’ve been burning), and then stop when she spied Mikan, and break into a huge grin.

She hopped down and skipped over, unbeknownst to Mikan, scooping her into her arms from behind.

Mikan let out a high pitch squeak, which quickly turned into an elated, manic giggle when she realized who had her. Ibuki spun around several times before setting her down, but still didn’t release her.

“Hey baby, hey Nagito, what’s crackalackin’? You plotting how to best help out with the show?” Ibuki addressed them both, arms still looped around Mikan’s waist. She nuzzled back into the contact, beaming, face pink.

Nagito found the sight heartwarming. He ignored the small pang of envy he felt deep inside.

“Something like that. What sort of help do you still need?” He asked.

Ibuki put on a thinking face, considering.

“You’re good at cleaning, right? Would you wanna help clean up after this super cool confetti cannon we wanna use right before intermission when we perform? Souda’s trying to customize it so the explosion is the least messy it can be, but the stage will still have to be swept before the second act.” She suggested, sounding hopeful. Nagito couldn’t turn that down. Not that he had planned on it, anyway, but still. 

He shrugged and nodded.

“If that’s what you’re looking for, consider it my duty, then.”

Ibuki seemed delighted to have him on board.

Souda came running over bringing Nagito a bag of hot fries and another drink, and the rest of the evening was spent snacking and chatting about the work that had to be done before opening night, and all the other things everyone was up to around the island. It was genuinely a really lovely evening.

But Nagito couldn’t stop thinking about Mahiru’s observations and curiosity.

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

The pattern of hanging out together continued, even when Hajime had things to do. When he had to pick up a delivery of supplies from Naegi, he brought Nagito along (after he made Nagito promise not to fanboy-jump the man when he arrived). When he helped Mikan give everyone routine checkups, he had Nagito there organizing his exam room with him before they got started. When he worked on a few parts of Kazuichi’s island water treatment improvement plan, he had Nagito hand him tools. It felt nice to be included, even if he knew that Hajime would be perfectly fine (if not demonstrably better off) without him hanging around. And even though all that _had_ to be more than enough Nagito to deal with, Hajime still spent down time with him as well. 

One such time, they were walking down the beach on the hotel island around sunset, chatting, after they had spent the day with a group of the others there, swimming and picnicking on the sand.

Waves lapped the shoreline, and Nagito listened as Hajime explained the plot of a movie he once liked. Something about a bad guy in an airport, and he laughed when Nagito pointed out some plot holes, telling him that it wasn’t a _good_ movie, just one he enjoyed.

“I’ll have to tell Naegi to keep an eye out for a copy, and maybe we can watch it together, one day. Then you’ll get it. Maybe.” Hajime said, falling right into step next to Nagito.

“I’d like that, whether or not I ended up ‘getting’ it.” Nagito agreed.

As they continued along the water, Nagito felt Hajime’s hand brush up against the back of his knuckles. His body tensed, but he tried not to let this reaction be outwardly visible.

Whether he noticed exactly what was brewing beneath the surface for Nagito or not, though, Hajime did notice the touch of their hands. He scooted so he was walking even closer beside Nagito, and grabbed his hand, linking their fingers together.

Nagito pulled away, abruptly, the sick feeling he’d had that night in Hajime’s cottage reawakening in his gut.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to prompt you to do that. I… Please don’t feel obligated to try and do things like this for me, Hajime. I wouldn’t want you to subject yourself to physical intimacy with the likes of me when you don’t need to put yourself through that.” He said, backing off from Hajime a few steps, sort of hunching in on himself.

Hajime blinked at him like he had a second head growing out of his shoulders.

“Wh-what the hell are you talking about?” He asked, brows tightly knit.

Nagito gave a small terse smile, one that he let fall as quickly as it appeared. The evening breeze picked up a little, causing his hair to whip in and out of his face, probably knotting up a little in the back. He tried to tuck some of it behind his ear.

“It’s clear to me that you’re doing one of the many things you’re best at, which is being kind, and giving people what it seems like they need or want, and you’re attempting to do that for me. For whatever reason. I’m just trying to tell you that it’s unnecessary. You don’t have to go out of your way, I’m fine, and you’re already so generous with your time with me. I’d hate to see you focusing any more of your unmatched mental capacity, time, and energy on me than you already do, simply because you think I’d like it. There are much worthier causes.” He rambled, tugging his coat tightly around his body with shaking fingers. He almost stumbled in the sand as he backed away a little further.

Hajime stepped forward, a little, reaching out, and then stopped and dropped his hands to his sides.

“I made you uncomfortable.” He stated in a small voice.

“No!” Nagito said a little too fast and a little too loud, waving a hand damn near frantically. “You couldn’t if you tried, I just think it’s a waste of all that you have to offer for you to go above and beyond trying to give me what you think I want.”

Hajime barely reacted. Which perplexed Nagito, but then he was speaking again.

“So, you don’t want this? This isn’t what you want?” Hajime’s tone was low and flat. Nagito swallowed thickly.

“It doesn’t matter what I want.” He answered, wringing his hands. As he avoided Hajime’s gaze, he felt like it might be nice to go for a dip in the ocean. With rocks in his pockets.

Hajime let out a slow, deep breath. Like he was forcing himself not to snap. It would almost be frightening if Nagito had any sense of self-preservation and didn’t find it to be on the verge of tantalizingly attractive. A consistently selfish line of thinking, but that was to be expected from scum like him.

“I didn’t ask whether or not it mattered, Nagito. I didn’t even ask _what_ you want. I just asked if you _don’t want_ me to hold your hand. Do you not want me to do that? Or what?” Hajime took a half-step closer as he asked this, cocking his head slightly to the side.

“Hajime, this is stupid.” Nagito said defensively, holding his arms out in front of him as if to keep Hajime away.

Hajime didn’t step forward again, but didn’t back down. The look on his face was incredibly serious.

“Is it? Am I stupid, too? Or are you just avoiding answering me, again, like you always do? Are you _that_ afraid to say what you do and don’t want?” He pressed, crossing his arms. 

Nagito felt the tiniest crack in his resolve begin to spiderweb.

“I’m not suggesting that you’re stupid, just that it’s foolish of you to concern yourself with the likes of me when—“

Hajime cut him off quickly.

“But shouldn’t I be capable of not being foolish? Aren’t I smart enough to decide what is and isn’t something I should be concerned with? If I’m not stupid myself, then why are you so determined to act like I’m being stupid and I’m not even aware of it? Why can’t you j—“

“Because I _am_ afraid!!! I’m terrified!!! Is that what you want to hear, Hajime? The responsibility of being in your life, someone like **_you_ ** , how could that not be terrifying?! You have the _most_ potential, everything you do has purpose, significance! I’m _nothing!_ All I do is take up space, drifting through life, useless! And I don’t understand you, but _of course_ I don’t!!! You are the epitome of human accomplishment, the man-made embodiment of talent! So why should your motivations make sense to me, right?! But you’re directing your energy into being around me, fuck knows why, so that _not knowing_ scares me! And what could I possibly have to offer you? All I’ve given you is a hard time and my disdain! The only thing anyone gains by being close to me is the risk of facing the consequences of my luck, just like me. Or worse, you could _die_! It’s happened before to people near me, it could very well happen again! And imagine what it’d feel like to know my garbage talent had robbed the world of its singular most talented person? Don’t you get it?! There is no scenario in which you’re better off with me in your life!” Nagito finished, huffing to catch his breath after unleashing a tirade so saturated with raw emotion. He hugged himself to keep from shaking.

After a moment of silence, Hajime laughed. 

Nagito shifted, folded his arms tight to his body, narrowed his eyes. Inappropriate laughter was _his_ schtick, not Hajime’s.

“What’s funny?” He asked sharply.

“You are. I don’t… even know how exactly to respond to all that.” He started, voice sounding simultaneously steady and fragile. “But it definitely caught me off guard to hear that you’re worried about _me_. Everything else aside, can’t you just let me decide what is and isn’t worth risking? What does and doesn’t improve my own life? Aren’t I qualified to do that?” Hajime asked, gently.

“Of course you are!” Nagito said, quickly, eyes wide, now.

Hajime laughed again.

“Then what are we even arguing about?” 

Unsure of what to say, or how to make them address the rest of what he’d said without assuming the authority to direct the conversation, Nagito shrugged.

Hajime walked up to him, and Nagito didn’t back away this time. He stopped when they stood, face to face, about a foot apart. Give or take several inches.

“Then shut up about everything else and either hold my hand or don’t, just based on what you want to do. Okay?” Hajime said, holding his hand out in front of Nagito, extended toward him with his fingers loosely uncurled.

Nagito blinked at it, sort of numbly, for several seconds, before finally interlocking their hands and turning to continue walking along the beach. Hajime fell in step with him again, and resumed talking about movies as if nothing had happened. Nagito felt like the heavy load on his mind and shoulders was being shared, for once. Which was unfamiliar and nice, but also multiplied his guilt _significantly_.


	6. Chapter 6

Having offered to stay back to finish cleaning, as he’d said he would, after a dress rehearsal of Gundham and Ibuki’s show several days later where a mishap with the modified confetti cannon had left a bigger mess than there was ever supposed to be, Nagito was alone in the music venue while everyone else went to go get dinner. He didn’t mind, of course, but it did feel eerily quiet after it had just been abuzz with the voices of his friends.

To stave off the heavy silence, he hummed to himself as he worked. There was a fair bit of confetti in places it really shouldn’t be, pretty much everywhere in the room. He had his work cut out for him. But he methodically cleared it away in sections, until only the actual surface of the stage was left. He was just lifting the back curtain to sweep out what had gotten caught behind there when the door to the venue opened.

“Hey, Nagito.”

He jumped, the curtain getting caught around him, and slipped on some of the stray confetti, dropping the broom and frantically grabbing at the curtain for purchase. As he did this, one of the hooks holding the curtain in place must’ve come undone because he swung forward and knocked his foot into the wall at the back of the stage, and in an instinctual reaction to push away from it quickly, fell backward out of the curtain and slid across the stage on his back and over the side.

Hajime, who’d just arrived, watched all of this occur, and reacted so quickly, setting something down on the bar on his way over, that he managed to catch Nagito before he hit the floor.

“Are you okay?” He asked, eyes looking a little concerned (verging on panicked) as he peered at Nagito cradled in his arms. Nagito tried to get up quickly, but Hajime held his arm, wordlessly telling him to chill out. So he stayed in place.

“I’m fine. Accidents happen, especially to me. Though it was definitely good luck that you happened to be here to catch me.” Nagito told him, giving his bicep a gentle squeeze to emphasize his appreciation. Definitely not because he couldn’t resist the temptation to do so.

Hajime scoffed.

“Nagito, I’m the one that scared you. I think this ones on me, start to finish, this time.”

Nagito shrugged. Trying to pick apart what was and wasn’t luck related and why was an insurmountable and fruitless task, so he didn't particularly care to argue. 

“Regardless, thank you, and I’m sorry I’ve put you in a situation where you felt obligated to be in physical contact with me, again.” He said apologetically. Hajime crinkled his brows.

“I wanted to help. And I don’t mind… touching you.” He said firmly, face reddening. “Like, in _general_. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to, or if it made me uncomfortable, or whatever. You didn’t make me do anything.”

Nagito wasn’t sure how to express that he knew that, that he knew he couldn’t make Hajime do anything, both because he wouldn’t dare and because anything he said or did could be easily resisted by such a superior being. But that wasn’t the point. He didn’t want Hajime to do things like this (or like _kissing him_ –), for Nagito’s sake because it only made him feel guilty, further indebted, and like he was being pitied, all at once. He didn’t want Hajime to do anything _for him_.

_But if he did it for himself, that would be another story,_ a tiny part of his brain whispered. But it was quickly drown out by a larger, louder part reminding him that no such thing ever could or would be the case. At least not so simply. Not that way.

Hajime helped Nagito back to his feet, easing him upright, and Nagito attempted to fix the messy bun he’d tried to pull his hair out of the way and into while he was cleaning up. When he saw Hajime intently watching his fingers as he did this, it made his heart clench a little. He dropped his hands.

“What brings you by this way, anyway, Hajime?” He asked, changing the subject and leaning against the stage just behind him.

“I was wondering where you were because I wanted to see if you’d keep me company while I collect some tap water samples. Kazuichi asked me to ‘review the efficiency’ of his recent upgrades, and so I want some exact data to use to maybe try and make a chart or something. Anyway, while I was looking for you I ran into a bunch of the others going to the hotel, and Mahiru told me you were here. So, I brought you some food.” Hajime explained, walking back to pick up what he set down before, and carrying it over. Up close it was clear now that it was a plate with tinfoil over it. 

Nagito looked at it, then at Hajime, then at the plate of food again.

“That’s… incredibly sweet of you. Why?” He managed, around the strange thick feeling in his throat. This was unexpected. Yet, familiar.

Hajime held the plate out until Nagito took it, before replying.

“Because it’s dinner time. And I just ate, and pretty much everyone else is eating right now, so I figured you’re probably hungry too. And I was looking for you anyway, so it wasn’t a big deal to also make sure you’d get something to eat. Hope ya like what I grabbed for you.”

Nagito peeled back the tinfoil. Apparently Teruteru, it could be presumed as the nights when someone else cooked were few and far between, had decided to go for Mexican food. There were two tacos, an enchilada, a handful of chips covered in salsa, and a scoop of rice on the plate. It was certainly more food than Nagito would usually take and eat, but when he saw the way Hajime was looking at him expectantly, _hopefully,_ he became determined to clear the plate.

Hajime talked about what he’d been up to earlier in the day, and asked questions about how the dress rehearsal went as Nagito picked his way through the meal. He was almost done with the entire plate when it occurred to him that he should feel bad for eating while Hajime just sat there, but he seemed to be enjoying himself with Nagito, at the moment, somehow, so the feeling was staved off. As he was pushing together the last remains of one of the tacos in preparation of taking his final bite, Hajime cleared his throat.

“So, um, did you want to come along? While I’m getting water to test? If not, that’s fine. But I think it’d be more fun with you.” He sounded hesitant, kind of. In the sweetest sort of way.

Nagito paused, mouth half open, fork suspended on its way to his face. Slowly, he met Hajime’s gaze. He saw softness in his heterochromic eyes. He couldn’t do anything to stop the way it made his heart squeeze. Which in turn kind of made him feel like throwing up. But that would be a waste of the food Hajime went out of his way to get for him, not to mention disgusting. And ridiculous. So he stuck the fork in his mouth, swallowed with concerted effort, and nodded curtly.

“Sure, just let me finish sweeping the stage.”

Hajime looked pleased by his affirmative response, and followed Nagito as he stood and went to fetch the broom he dropped when he fell.

“Let me help– is there another broom I could use?”

Nagito shook his head, waving a hand at Hajime over his shoulder.

“No, no, I got this. You don’t need to do anything, I’ll be quick.” He said.

Hajime let out one sharp laugh.

“I know I don’t _need_ to, I’m trying to be helpful. Besides, it’s totally selfishly motivated, I don’t wanna sit in the corner while you’re cleaning up.” He replied, as Nagito knelt down to move the dustpan he was using.

“If you don’t want to wait here for me, as that’s understandably quite boring, you can go ahead and start getting water samples without me. I can come find you and catch up when I’m done.” He told Hajime, standing back up from his crouch and starting to sweep again. 

Hajime huffed, sounding frustrated. Nagito turned away from him as he swept. He didn’t want to see the irritation he’d caused on his face.

“No, I want to spend this time with you, that’s why I don’t want to be across the room by myself, not because I’m in a hurry to get the samples, or something. Now do you know if there’s another broom, or not?” Hajime asked insistently.

Nagito weighed the probable outcome of him continuing to argue that Hajime needn’t help him versus that of not doing so, and settled for the option that would be least likely to push him into genuinely angry territory. He gestured vaguely toward the supply closet.

“I didn’t see one, but if it exists it’s probably in there with the other cleaning things.”

Without responding, Hajime nodded and went over to the closet. He came back a minute later holding a small dustbrush and a second dustpan. Nagito eyed the items.

“Wanna trade?” He offered. “This is the job I signed up for, so I wouldn’t want someone else, let alone _you_ , to do my work in such an inconvenient way.”

Sighing, Hajime nodded. He approached Nagito and swapped brooms.

“I would fight you on this, but I honestly do want the real broom. I hate being up close and personal with dust and stuff when sweeping. It makes me sneezy.”

Nagito shrugged.

The work went much more quickly when divided between them, and with the extra pep in Nagito’s step knowing that Hajime was waiting on him to begin a task he had to do. Hajime swept in big strokes, clearing piles of the confetti insanely fast, while Nagito crawled on his hands and knees from spot to spot making sure to get every last piece with the dustbrush. He felt like Hajime kept staring at him from behind, when he wasn’t looking, but that didn’t make any sense.

They finished in under a half an hour, and sat on the edge of the stage, mostly quiet, just catching their breath for a moment and splitting a water bottle from the fridge behind the bar. Whenever Nagito drank after Hajime, and could feel his warmth lingering on the plastic lip of the bottle, he was reminded of that night in his cottage. It made his head hurt, sort of, and go kind of dizzy, but also reminded him of the ever-present weight roiling in his gut.

As they headed out to get some vials of tap water from different locations all over the islands, Hajime held open the music venue for Nagito and ushered him through it with a light hand on the small of his back.

Nagito couldn’t help but wonder...


	7. Chapter 7

Nagito wasn’t exactly an early riser, as he didn’t _always_ like to wake up early, by any means, especially since he often had trouble sleeping (except, strangely, almost never when he stayed with Hajime). But on the nights when he got enough rest, and had gone to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour, he occasionally found himself waking up naturally quite early in the morning. On these occasions, he’d go for a quiet stroll. Many of the others thoroughly enjoyed sleeping in, and wouldn’t often be found outside when the sun hadn’t even risen yet unless they’d been out all night, which meant that the islands were usually totally empty. 

Not that Nagito didn’t enjoy the bustle of his friends going about their lives, in fact he loved that, but there was enjoyment to be found in a near silent walk, too.

One such morning, Nagito followed the sound of soft chirping he heard while meandering about over to the airport. And he found its source on the tarmac. A birds nest that had been wedged into some broken plane parts had been knocked down, likely by the wind, and the baby bird inside seemed to be incredibly scared.

Kneeling down, he tried to assess if the bird was injured. It seemed fine, other than being frightened, and the nest was even mostly intact despite having been dislodged from its place of construction, but he didn’t know enough about birds to ascertain if it was really totally unharmed. He stood back up and thought about what he _could_ do. He made a mental note to fetch Gundham later in the day, so he could care for the poor thing, and in the meantime he could look for some worms to give it, maybe. Just as he was wondering if cutting up a worm would simulate a mother bird feeding its child closely enough, he heard someone coming out of the airport building.

Looking up, he saw Kazuichi yawning and then spotting him and trotting over. He looked dead tired.

“Morning,” Nagito greeted softly, not wanting to startle the bird. “What’re you up to, here?”

Kazuichi peaked at the bird beside him, made a face that said ‘awww’, and then shrugged.

“I somehow convinced myself I could find some parts I was looking for, as if I haven’t picked this place clean of anything good, like, three times over. I was wrong, obviously.” He said with a chuckle, tucking his hands into the pockets of his extra dirty jumpsuit.

“Isn’t it a bit early for you?” Nagito asked, turning away from the bird and more toward Kazuichi, who was shuffling the toe of his shoe against the broken pavement.

“Honestly, I’m working on a surprise for Gundham’s birthday with Sonia, and I lost track of time last night cranking out some of the groundwork and then figured I might as well just keep going while I was on a roll, but I’m about burnt out at this point, for now. It’s not like there’s a rush, there’s quite a while ‘til the day, anyway, I just was in a groove for a bit, there. How ‘bout you? Befriending this little lost bird?” Kazuichi replied, rolling back and forth on his feet.

“I was gonna try something, but I actually don’t want to risk hurting the thing because I don’t know enough about bird care. So I think I’m gonna tell Gundham and let him handle it. I was just on a walk and heard it making noise and got curious. I think I might go get breakfast, now.” Nagito told him. Kazuichi smiled.

“I think I will, too, if you’re cool with me tagging along.” 

Nagito nodded vigorously.

So they set off toward the hotel. The sun was just starting to rise, and a few more birds flitted around in the sky above them, singing morning songs. 

Kazuichi was whistling as they went, but then stopped suddenly.

“Anyway, I’ve been meaning to ask, what’s up with you and Hajime?” He asked, yawning and scratching his head under his hat. 

Nagito tensed.

“What do you mean?”

Kazuichi seemed irritated at this, and rolled his eyes as he started up the steps to the hotel restaurant. He was walking backward up them, looking at Nagito as he crossed his arms.

“Dude, c’mon! Obviously… _before_ is a whole other story, but, I mean—! Even in the program, at the calmest moments, y’all were at each other’s throats! You seem so chill now. I know we’re all a little less intense these days, but I never thought you two would be so buddy buddy! It’s surprising to me, is all.” He said, sounding almost exasperated, but also amused. As he reached the top of the stairs he stumbled a bit and nearly fell over, but managed to wobble back straight, shake it off, and head to the kitchen. Nagito followed, stuffing his hands deep in his coat pockets.

As it was too early to find Teruteru whipping something up at the stove, Souda set about getting himself some cereal and Nagito popped a bagel in the toaster and got out some butter and marmalade to put on it. He was quiet for a time, thinking about what Kazuichi had said. While he knew it to be true, for the most part, he also felt like there was a piece of the puzzle missing. But something in the way his chest felt tight told him that that was wishful thinking.

“I don’t really know, to be honest. Maybe we get along better now because I’m not being quite as antagonistic and hostile as I was then. Maybe it was the circumstances? Fairweather friends type stuff, or something. Couldn’t say. I haven’t really wanted to look a gift horse in the mouth, y’know?” He said, finally, spreading the smears on his bagel with a knife and then grabbing the plate and his coffee and turning to find a table in the dining room.

Jogging after him carrying his bowl of cereal, nearly sloshing the milk onto the floor, Kazuichi hummed as if Nagito’s reply was curious. 

They sat down at the same spot they had the morning that Nagito came to Hajime’s water processing meeting with Kazuichi.

“It’s still weird. I could’ve sworn you hated each other.” Kazuichi said skeptically. “Whatever, though, it’s good. I like both you guys so it’s nice that you’re cool now. I was iffy about you, but you’re a pretty chill dude, so, I’m glad we all get along.” He concluded with a smile, shoveling cereal into his mouth.

Unbeknownst to him, and surely unintended, he set Nagito on a mental path of reflection, that lasted long after Kazuichi tossed his empty dish in the kitchen sink and told him that he was going back to his cottage to crash and sleep probably ‘til the next day, and left. Nagito stayed sitting at the table, staring out the window to the water on the horizon. 

He had thought, in some way, that he and Hajime were something like two admittedly quite contrasting sides of the same coin. Even when they’d been most at odds. Even though Hajime was so much… _more_ than him. They had a special dynamic, or at least he had believed they did. He knew he was annoying and frustrating, and he knew he caused undue headaches. Nagito was fully aware that he was a burden. It had seemed that, even though it was beyond reason, Hajime didn’t mind these things. At least not so much that he was going anywhere. In the program, even when he’d been disgusted with and horrified by Nagito’s actions at the old building early on, he still spent his time seeking Nagito out and hanging out with him. Which he claimed was to keep an eye on him, but that never seemed to be the entire reason. Not to mention, back in the time before, when he’d still used the name given to him by the Project, he may not have been warm and inviting to Nagito, but he never seemed bothered by him sticking around. But maybe all of that was just total indifference, or worse, thinly, politely veiled loathing. 

That wouldn’t be surprising, Nagito thought, and yet as much as he knew what a waste he was it never crossed his mind that Hajime might be just as certain of that truth. But evidently that’s what others saw, from an outside perspective. And who was Nagito to doubt an objective view, especially when he knew how biased he really was when it came to Hajime. He would never say it out loud to anyone, but he wanted, _really wanted_ , Hajime not to hate him. Not to think of him as worthless as he really was. He wanted him to want him around.

Which probably explained why he was reading far too much into Hajime’s recent kindness. 

Leaning back in his chair, craning his neck to the ceiling and letting his eyes sink closed, Nagito fought the dry feeling in his throat, swallowing hard, and blew a long breath out his nose. 

_Ridiculous_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t usually use notes because I’m typically writing self-indulgent nonsense and my fics don’t really get very much traction—and this one isn’t really an exception. But, I’ve gotten quite a few very nice comments, so thank you for that! I hope y’all continue to enjoy the probably 3ish chapters I’ve got left to post before wrapping this up! If you’re liking this so far, please comment and let me know what you hope (or predict) to see play out from here to the end !!!


	8. Chapter 8

Avoidance, Nagito knew, was a cowardly strategy. Which was all the more reason it suited him in his current situation.

He was supposed to meet Hajime for lunch over at the diner, which Teruteru and he had fixed up and redid and made into a functional secondary eating spot, but he had decided to skip. Which was inconsiderate and childish, but he didn’t want to sit across from Hajime and see his smile and think about how he hated Nagito and feel confused and frustrated and and and—

He had spent the majority of the last two days thinking about almost nothing but the things Mahiru and Souda had said, had asked, and about how Hajime had been and was being. He was tired of it, now.

It occurred to him that he’d been tired, in general, in this way for some time. It was more than a little exhausting to constantly feel a burden of responsibility and guilt crushing down on you just for existing and taking up space and being someone to other people. He’d just never felt it quite so acutely, the whole being tired of feeling that way thing, _until Hajime_. 

Likely because Hajime had become the one person he wanted the impossible from.

But rather than face the music, Nagito decided to prop himself under a palm tree on the beach, and shut it all out. He sat in silence with his eyes closed, focusing on the sounds of the island to avoid his thoughts. Breathed as slowly and deeply as he could. He fell asleep in the warm shade, shoes slipped off so he could feel the sand on his hands and feet, a salty breeze gently blowing up above.

He was just dreaming about his childhood dog when he was startled awake.

“There you are!” Hajime was saying, jogging over and then folding his arms in front of him, as Nagito blinked a little of the sleepiness from his eyes. “I was looking for you at the diner, what’re you doing here?”

Nagito looked up from where he was laying, raising one brow.

“What does it look like I’m doing, Hajime? I’m enjoying the nice weather and taking a nap.” He answered stoically, making no move to get up and greet Hajime like he normally would. 

Hajime sighed. He leaned against the palm tree, still on his feet, now hovering almost directly over Nagito.

“Yeah, yeah, I meant ‘why did you _ditch_ me’, and you know it. _So_?”

“So what? I didn’t know my presence or lack thereof mattered so much to you. It never has before.” Nagito replied, adjusting his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose.

Hajime scowled.

“Uh, what the fuck does that mean?” He almost demanded, eyeing Nagito intensely.

“Exactly what I said. You didn’t care about me before, which is completely valid and understandable, so it’s just interesting that you’re acting like you do now, all of a sudden.” He said back with a small huff.

“...H-huh?”

Hajime did not seem to be having this. Shaking his head, he bent down and took Nagito’s hand, hoisting him to his feet.

“No, you know what, you don’t get to lay there all nonchalant while we have this conversation, you’re gonna look me in the face and tell me where all this is coming from.” Hajime insisted matter-of-factly as Nagito steadied himself after having been yoinked upright without warning.

“It’s not coming from anything other than the reality of our history, Hajime. I’ve been a nuisance and a bother to you at the best of times, and a full-on adversary and bully at the worst, so it doesn’t exactly stand to reason that you’d actually want me around.” Nagito told him with a shrug. This only seemed to inflame Hajime’s irritation. _Good_ , _maybe then he’ll just leave, and make this easier_.

Instead, he took Nagito lightly by the shoulders.

“First things first, you’re doing it again, that thing where you’re trying to make choices for me. I don’t know how many times we have to go over that, but, whatever it takes. Second of all, you’re _wrong_. Not about you being an adversary, you definitely were, in a lot of ways, but about that meaning that I never cared about you, before. Because that’s not true.” He said kindly, even sweetly, but Nagito kept his face unmoved like porcelain.

“Ah, so your way of showing me you cared was by telling me to go away and shut up, and insisting that the time you spent with me was just to keep an eye on me for the sake of everyone else’s safety?” Nagito asked, not expecting an answer, and causing Hajime’s eyes to widen and cheeks to redden. He went on. “I’m not upset with you for not caring, Hajime. You shouldn’t. I’m not and never have been worth the effort. I would just appreciate you calling off the charade.”

Hajime’s grip tightened on his shoulders a little. Goosebumps rose on Nagito’s skin.

“There—there is no charade! I know I said… a lot of things before, a lot of which I didn’t mean, but even the things that I did mean, I don’t anymore! _I_ was wrong! Is that what you want me to say? I’ve been trying to get that across, I’m sorry, really, if I haven’t, because I’m serious. I was wrong about you, I didn’t understand you back then and—“

“And you do now?” Nagito asked sort of mockingly, a coldness in his eyes that he hadn’t directed at Hajime in a long time. Maybe ever. Hajime seemed a little taken aback. He dropped his hands from Nagito’s arms.

“That’s not-! No, no I don’t, not fully or even mostly. I know that. But I _want_ to! And I think I _get_ you more now than I used to, by far. Nothing that I’ve learned or that I could learn to understand would make me not like you, though, and I don’t know what else I have to do to get that through to you. We’re all messed up, but Nagito, regardless of what I’ve said in the past, I have always been literally _fascinated_ by you.” Hajime said softly, a kind of frantic desperation in his eyes.

Nagito hummed.

“Being interesting to you and being cared about by you are not the same thing. But I’m honored, really, that I could be a fun mystery to you. There’s nothing really left unknown, though. And I’d rather not wait for you to come to that conclusion yourself and then return to distancing yourself from me sometime down the line, when I can just tell you anything you think you don’t know already and we can skip to that part now.” He suggested, a little more harshly than he planned. Hajime’s nose wrinkled.

“Why are you making this so hard? I know I was a dick to you, and you were one to me, we’ve been over that. But what did I do anytime recently to make you so upset? Why can’t you just accept that I like you?”

“Because why should I? You forgave me so easily for how I treated you in the program after I learned about your past as a reserve course student, as if it was nothing. I don’t want to suggest that someone like me could’ve gotten to you in any significant way, but at the same time I’ve also done nothing to earn forgiveness for that, and you deserve more than I could ever give to make up for it, anyway. Nothing about this is consistent with what we’ve… been _like_ with each other. None of this seems real!”

“Nagito,” Hajime breathed, stepping closer, but stopping when Nagito stepped away in response. “Don’t you get that you basically gave me a taste of my own medicine? I’m not gonna lie, it did hurt, quite a lot, but I know you feel bad, and I’m not as insecure as I was then, or in the past. And you’ve apologized. But don’t you know that my reaction to you after I found out you were trying to sacrifice yourself for us at the old building, that anger and betrayal and disgust, that was the same way you treated me. Only you didn’t let everyone knock me out and tie me up, or tell me I was dangerous and crazy. I’m sorry I didn’t try and handle you and the situation better. We both fucked up, we both hurt each other, but it’s over. I’m not mad, you say you’re not mad, and if you are let’s talk about it, but if you’re not… it’s done, y’know? So why dwell on it?”

Nagito inhaled deeply.

“I still don’t understand what changed your mind.”

“ _Nothing_ , I d—“

“Is it atonement? Do you think by extending kindness to the most pathetic person you know it will make up for the things that haunt you? Do you believe that by wasting your time on me you’re somehow removing the karma of our awful pasts? That I’m somehow the fare you have to pay to balance the books?” Nagito interrupted, rambling, a bitterness in his words that he never intended there to be. But he knew what he was doing.

“St-stop, that’s not what this is about, you’re not even _listening_ to me!” Hajime tried, but Nagito was incessant. 

“Are you trying to be there for me since you weren’t there for Chiaki all those years ago at Hope’s P—“

  
  


He was cut short by the smack across his face. 

  
  
  


The whole world seemed to go still and silent for just a moment.

  
  
  


He looked wide-eyed at Hajime, whose expression was unreadable, but with eyes nearly as wide as his own. And then they narrowed.

  
  


“ _Don’t._ ” Was all he said, heavily. Clipped. And then walked past Nagito and toward the cottages, where after about a minute he heard the distinct but faraway sound of a door slam shut.

Realizing suddenly that he’d been frozen since the slap, Nagito reached up and gingerly touched his stinging skin with a few fingertips. It was hot to the touch.

This was what he had been trying to do, wasn't it? To make Hajime realize what trouble he was, what a waste. To get him to _go._

But standing there holding his face in the afternoon sunshine, he couldn’t help but feel… wrong.

Eventually he got moving again, and made his way to the music venue where he was supposed to help mark the stage where set pieces and actors were to go, using tape and glow in the dark paint. He worked with the others for a little while, sort of in a haze, and then left to go back to his cottage and turn in early for the night. He wasn’t really feeling in the mood for dinner. 

On his way, however, he was stopped. By Imposter.

Taking hold of Nagito by the arm, he turned him to face him.

  
. . .

“Can we talk?”


	9. Chapter 9

Nagito felt somehow more tired than he had, straight up _worn_ , even, but he didn’t like to tell anyone no. In general, but it also seemed like it would be especially troublesome for him to do so now given the insistent glint in his friend’s eye. So he nodded, and was directed to come over to Imposter’s cottage, instead of his own.

When they stepped in, he asked if Nagito wanted tea, and went about turning on a little electric teapot, while Nagito just shuffled his feet near the door.

“Have a seat, the tea will be ready in a few minutes.” Imposter instructed, his back to Nagito.

Exhaling a little wearily, Nagito did as he was told, folding his hands in his lap.

“So, I ran into Hajime, earlier.” 

“Oh?” Nagito replied, detachedly. “Good for you.”

“Mm. He had a lot to say about you.” Imposter told him, coming to take a seat on his couch across from Nagito. 

Nagito crossed his legs, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Did he? I’m surprised. He’s got plenty on his plate to worry about rather than wasting his time on the topic of me.” He said. 

Imposter blinked at him, arching a brow and adjusting the glasses he was donning today. He sniffed a little judgmentally.

“I think he can figure out what is a waste and what is not, and this definitely didn’t seem to be, to him. He was actually pretty upset.” He informed Nagito with a somewhat forceful tone.

Nagito swallowed, staring out the window instead of looking anywhere near his friend.

“Well, he has every right to be. He deserves to be unbothered by anything I’m capable of doing, and I hope he can achieve that, but I certainly went out of my way to be an asshole.” He admitted.

Imposter huffed.

“It definitely sounds that way. Why?”

Nagito chuckled airily.

“Because he needed to know that I’m still worthless and belligerent and argumentative and obnoxious. So he doesn’t need to change his attitude toward me when I’m the same as I’ve always been.” The words almost tumbled out, the slightest sound of a quiver in his voice making him feel a little sick. It was just the truth, he didn’t need to get emotional about it.

The teapot whistled, so Imposter stood and went to get it. 

“You’ve never been worthless, and honestly, I find it offensive that you still say that.” He said over his shoulder as he poured two cups of tea. Confused by this statement, Nagito figured now was not the time to ask for cream and sugar.

“Really? How so?”

As Imposter brought the tea over and carefully handed a cup to Nagito, he looked thoughtful.

“Well, for one, I had every intention of sacrificing myself for you the same as I would’ve for anyone, even when I thought you were going to kill someone, and I thought that I _did_. So it’s a bit inconsiderate of you to place such little value on the existence I was willing to pay the price of my own life to preserve.” He began, but gave Nagito no chance to comment or room to react. “Not to mention, you haven’t always been shown it very clearly, but everyone here considers you a friend. The only reason they get so frustrated with your self-loathing monologues is because they want you to see your worth the way that they do. Do you know why they all felt so betrayed in the program, when they didn’t understand the things you did and said? Because they were under the impression that they knew you and that you trusted one another, only to find out you were handling and doing quite a lot all on your own. They want you to open up.”

He paused, and this time Nagito could have interjected, but he didn’t. They sat in silence for a moment, Nagito’s heart thundering so heavily in that quiet that he could hear it in his ears, until Imposter pressed on.

“ _Hajime_ wants you to open up, or at least for you not to completely push him away and shut him out at every turn. He won’t say it, but he’s more hurt about that than about anything you said to provoke him. And you _know_ I of all people know what it’s like trying to let people in when you’ve never operated that way. I understand that it’s difficult, and scary, and like you don’t deserve the people who want you to and their unconditional support. But you can’t live always making that decision for everyone else.”

Nagito slowly turned his head until he met Imposter's steady gaze. He gripped his knees tightly to try and stop the way his hands were shaking.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

Imposter shrugged, sipping his tea.

“Don’t tell me, tell the person who’s actually upset with you right now.”

They spent the time finishing their tea in near silence, as Nagito processed everything that’d been said. It wasn’t as though he had a complete-180 in his perspective, or even that he totally understood the insistence that he was worth something, but… there were things to consider.

Primarily, he thought about Chiaki. All those years ago, she’d always tried to include him. When he was gone and then came back after so long, she was the first to check up on him after his return. She had cared about him, and about everyone, _so much_. 

  
  


And he had used her to distance himself from Hajime.

  
  
  
  
  


_Ah, there’s that familiar feeling of guilt._

  
  
  
  


When Imposter took their empty teacups to clean, Nagito excused himself and went back to his own cottage. It was dark outside now, but he could hear chattering sounds coming from the windows of the hotel restaurant. Probably folks still hanging around after dinner. Nagito still didn’t really want to eat.

Inside his cottage, he went straight to his desk and picked up a notebook of his, tearing out a sheet of paper.

Scrawling something out, and folding it up, he stepped back outside. He glanced around to see if anyone was out and about, and then went up to Hajime’s door, and slipped the note underneath, and then scampered back to his cottage again.


	10. Chapter 10

Nagito pulled his coat a little tighter around himself as he stood idly by the pool. He’d been there for about 20 minutes because he couldn’t _not_ be early to wait and see if Hajime would show up to the meeting time he had suggested via note. He was listening to the sound of the pool water rocking back and forth, rolling a little up and a little down the walls in a rhythm. A cool night breeze was blowing that seemed to muffle any of the other default noises of the island. It was almost 3 am.

When he heard the sound of a cottage door unlatching, he felt his heart in his throat.

Hajime rounded the corner and emerged. Nagito waved, and Hajime approached with a neutral look on his face.

“Hey,” Nagito greeted, a bit nervously.

“Hey,” Hajime said back, equally as loquaciously.

The awkward tension felt thick, and Nagito hated it. He moved closer to Hajime, who didn’t react, and hugged himself against the wind, a little protectively.

“I’m sorry. I went too far, and I treated you unfairly, yet again. And in response to you being nice to me, no less. There’s no excuse for the fact that I let my own certainty that I’m not worth your time drive me to treat you badly, and I… don’t want to keep trying to take away your freedom to choose for yourself what you want to do. If there’s anything I can do to make up for my behavior, say the word, and I’ll do it.” Nagito said all in one breath, his fingers gripping his own arms a bit harder.

Hajime blinked at him, the tight furrow of his brows loosening a bit. And then he broke into a small smile.

“You were right, you know. Not about what you said last time we talked, of course, that was stupid.” He assured with a slight laugh. “But when you said we were kindred spirits, forever ago. We totally are.”

Nagito cleared his throat, shrugging and shaking his head.

“I don’t know about that, but does that mean I’m forgiven?” He asked, tentatively.

“Yeah, it does. And I’m sorry, too, for smacking you. That was… unnecessary.” Hajime said, scratching the back of his neck and appearing almost sheepish.

Nagito laughed dryly.

“It was my f—“ Hajime shot Nagito a warning look, stopping the statement before it finished coming out his mouth. He smiled a small smile and changed angles. “Um, this whole fight was unnecessary. So, no worries.”

Hajime nodded, going quiet but still smiling too, and toeing the ground with the scuffed tip of his shoe. Nagito shifted his stance. 

“Ah, could I ask one small thing, though? Why _do_ you want to be around me?”

Hajime narrowed his eyes.

“Because I like you.” He said emphatically, pushing Nagito’s shoulder lightly.

“You have some poor judgement and taste, truly, I really—“

Hajime leaned into Nagito’s personal space. So close that it made what he was saying die in his throat and instead he just met the eyes peering directly into his own.

“You don’t know when to shut up, do you?” Hajime said with the smallest smirk on his face.

Nagito shook his head, a small grin creeping on his own face.

Hajime closed the last bit of distance between them, pressing a somewhat forceful kiss to Nagito’s lips.

His head felt dizzy, but not in a way that made his gut lurch or a throbbing pain grown behind his eye sockets. He felt light, like he could blow away with a gust of wind. Like he might fall over but he wouldn’t even hit the ground.

And then he jumped back.

“I’m so sorry, I—“ Nagito started, quickly, but Hajime was talking too.

“Sh-shit, did I misread the moment? Uh, fuck, I’m— wait, why are _you_ sorry?”

Nagito went to take another step back but felt the heel of his shoe brush the edge of the pool, so he tried to balance where he was, leaning away from Hajime. He could feel the guilt and the fear and the shame rising inside again, and he tried to swallow it down in favor of how good he’d felt just a moment before, but that only made him feel worse. He held his head in his hands.

“Because, I’m… I’m disgusting. I’m taking advantage of you.” He said, eyes bugging out a little, so he aimed them away from Hajime. He wasn’t really seeing, though, because his vision was a little blurry. Were those tears brimming in his eyes? 

_Ridiculous. Stupid. Gross._

Hajime made a sound akin to choking.

“Nagito, I kissed you. How could that _possibly_ be you taking advantage of me?” He asked, coming close to Nagito again, who now had nowhere to go unless he wanted to go for a swim. To be fair, that was a good question. And yet...

Nagito’s hands instinctively went up and out in front of himself, a defensive sort of gesture, but they just ended up pressed against Hajime’s chest because he was so near. He didn’t move to pull them away.

“It’s not fair to you for me to be so excited by you kissing me, I need to calm down. If you want to kiss me, then you can, whatever you want is yours, I just have to get ahold of myself.”

Hajime’s arms wrapped around Nagito’s gently, hesitantly.

“I don’t want anything you don’t want. I want what you want.” He told him firmly. “What do you want? What do you mean by... ‘excited’?” Hajime was looking at him with a tenderness he almost couldn’t stand.

Nagito tried to steady his breathing.

“I mean that I don’t dislike it when you kiss me.” He answered, simply.

So he did, again, pulling Nagito up against his body. Nagito’s hands pushed flat against the front of his shirt, feeling Hajime’s heartbeat beneath his palm. 

Nagito teetered a little on his feet on the pool edge, which Hajime apparently noticed, because he walked them away from the pool a bit without breaking their locked lips and pulling apart fully at all. In doing so, his hands dipped low on Nagito’s back. As he deepened the kiss, and Nagito leaned into it, his grip on his hips tightened and his thumbs pressed against the bone there a little harder.

Nagito rotated his abdomen into the touch, wanting to be flush with even more of Hajime, feeling his belt bump against Hajime’s stomach. His fingers squeezed into Hajime’s chest, which made him feel lightheaded. He bit into Hajime’s lip a little. Hajime’s leg slipped between his. His heart was doing somersaults, and he felt something in his gut, but something good for a change. 

As Nagito stifled a much louder sound that wanted to come out into a small whimper into Hajime’s mouth, Hajime broke the kiss only to press his lips to Nagito’s jaw and up to his ear and whisper to him.

“Would you wanna come back to my cottage?”

And he _did_.

  
  


. . .

  
  


When all was said and done that evening, after a modest (ah, the irony) amount of time to catch his breath, Nagito got up from Hajime’s bed and stretched. Something about the way Hajime watched him, eyeing the contours of his body, made Nagito feel something stir in his chest. But that was further than he ought to go and he knew it. So he pushed it down, and bent down to collect his clothes from the floor.

Hajime stayed quiet until Nagito went to step into his jeans.

“What’re you doing?”

Nagito looked at him confusedly.

“Getting dressed, obviously.”

“Why? Aren’t you gonna… stay?” Hajime said, propping himself up on his elbows. He looked almost nervous to ask.

“I wasn’t planning on it, I didn’t want to assume. Did you not want me to leave?”

Hajime patted the bed next to him, where Nagito’s body heat still surely lingered.

“Not unless you don’t want to be here. But I’d definitely prefer to have you not just _go_ after we just fucked. Call me a sap, I guess.” He said earnestly, shrugging sort of awkwardly but smiling a small, warm, lopsided smile at Nagito.

Nagito dropped his jeans and crawled back into the space beside Hajime, returning his head to the crook of Hajime’s neck and shoulder. He made a small, unintentional noise of contentment as he settled into place. Hajime ruffled his hair. Nagito felt sleepy all of a sudden.

“I think this was a long time coming, don’t you?” Hajime supposed, voice soft.

Nagito yawned.

“Whatever you say.” He muttered with a grin, barely processing what he’d heard and what he said back.

Before he knew it, he fell asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

“I didn’t know there was a vampire on this island.” Hiyoko said from behind Nagito where he sat on a stool in the diner, pinching the purple mark on his neck.

Before he could say anything back, she stepped up on the stool next to him, spun around and sat down on the countertop, crossing her legs and plucking a grape from the fruit cup by his plate and popping it in her mouth. She bounced her knee.

“So, how long have you and calico eyes been playing hotdog in a hallway, huh? Since you were fresh from surgery still reeking of disinfectant, or what?” She asked, interlacing her fingers in her lap and leaning well into Nagito’s space with an intensely curious expression on her face.

Rather than creating a more drawn out conversation by picking apart her choice of wording, Nagito just shook his head lightly.

“Just a couple weeks, actually. Why?” As he was speaking, Hiyoko had pulled out a pack of bubble gum and unwrapped a piece, which she stuck in her mouth as she went to reply.

“Well, ‘cause Mahiru owes me five bucks, with that info. I told her you two would be too dense to figure your shit out quickly. She was convinced you’d hook up, like, over a month ago. I knew better.” She said, smacking her gum. She looked a little smug.

Nagito folded his arms. 

“You were placing bets on my sex life?” He questioned, finding the idea of her talking about his personal affairs with her girlfriend in her free time to be a laughable but also kind of scary thought.

She rolled her eyes, blowing a bubble and popping it.

“Yeah, but it’s not like I’m the only one. Boss Baby thought you’d already screwed back in the program, a bunch of the others thought you guys had some kind of kink contract back before that during the bad times, and Souda and Ibuki both had money on you two being unable to bang without getting sidetracked arguing about why the sky’s blue or something.” She told him. She picked at the nail polish on her fingernail, shrugging, seeming unenthused about sharing all this.

Nagito felt like letting his jaw drop, but instead he clenched it closed for a moment, and then let out a single laugh.

“Wow, good to know there’s been a community gambling ring centered around myself and Hajime, unbeknownst to me.” He said with a whiff of disbelief in his tone.

Hiyoko popped her gum again.

“Anyway, I’m happy for you, though. I know things can get hard sometimes, in general in life but also especially for us all, here. And obviously there’s no easy fix, but it helps to know you’re not alone. And to feel like someone’s watching out for and checking up on _you_ , specifically. At least, it helps me.” She said genuinely, eyes sort of zoning into the middle distance, aimed somewhere off near the window. But then she blinked back to reality. And dropped the earnestness. “And you, of course, could use all the help you can get with all the stuff you got _going on_.” She finished with a nose-crinkling snarky comment, gesturing at his entire person, hopping down from the countertop, and strutting away toward the door.

“Tell your boyfriend hi for me, freak!” She instructed in a parting statement, waving to him over her shoulder.

“I will, but we’re not—“ The diner door swung shut behind her, rattling the frame and setting the bells attached to it ringing, and leaving him to swallow his correction.

He finished his meal shortly thereafter, and went to find Hajime at Electric Avenue. 

During the show that Ibuki and Gundham had put on, their finale sequence had featured _ear blastingly_ loud music. Which had been no big deal the first two run-throughs, but on the third and final it blew the speakers to shit. Resulting in both Kazuichi and Hajime being tasked with their repair.

So, Hajime was spending the day scavenging for materials, and had asked Nagito to join him. And he’d happily agreed to.

This had been the routine of late. Same regular company-keeping when Hajime was busy, and relaxing together in their free time, but with the added semi-frequent occurrence of falling into bed together less than fully clothed and then saying nothing about it when the cycle began anew the next day. 

Not that Nagito was complaining, of course. He just had a sinking feeling that the arrangement couldn’t last forever that weighed down on how nice it all was.

But Hajime looked happy to see him when he spotted him strolling between piles of technojunk to meet him.

“Any luck so far?” Nagito asked with a smile as he approached, slowing to a stop near the giant pile Hajime was in the middle of rummaging through. He currently had a slight film of dust and dirt on his pants and up his arms, and a few smudges of oil and grease here and there as well. It was… _cute_.

Hajime shook his head, standing up and attempting to wipe his hands on the cleanest parts of his clothes.

“Not much, but _you’re_ here now, so,” he shrugged goofily as he said this, wearing a lopsided grin.

“Mm, I wouldn’t count on me. My favorite mug was clean when I got coffee this morning, I just missed getting hit by a bird dive-bombing a group of us walking by the pool, I found a pretty conch shell on the beach, and Hiyoko was sort of sweet to me today. I’m due for something bad.”

“That’s not– I meant– nevermind. Hiyoko was sweet?” Hajime looked at Nagito with wide eyes and eyebrows raised high.

“Sweet for _her_ , anyway.” Nagito amended, nodding. “Can I help with your search at all?”

Hajime looked at the pile by his feet scratching the back of his neck, then at Nagito, the pile, and back again. And his expression loosened, softened. He blew a puff of air out his nose.

“I think this spots a bust, but I’m gonna keep looking around. I don’t know if I have anything to ask you to do, exactly, since I’m just seeing what there is to work with, but you’re a help just by being here, honestly.” He told Nagito reassuringly, sounding very sincere.

Nagito chuckled, settling down on top of a very old, very broken computer at the edge of a nearby pile and crossing his ankles.

“I very much doubt that, but whatever suits you, I’m happy to do.”

Hajime frowned.

“Listen, I hate when you say things like that. It reminds me of how you acted around me when I… wasn’t _me_. I don’t want you to just do whatever I want and whatever I say. I’m not always gonna agree with you on everything, obviously, but that’s okay. You’re your own person, you’re allowed to have your own wants and needs and opinions and desires. And you deserve to know that you can, and should, listen to yourself first.” He spoke each word with intention, crossing his arms as he did, and made unflinching eye contact the whole time.

This was not the first lecture in terms of self-respect Nagito had gotten in the time they’d been spending together lately, not even the first one specifically related to how he shouldn’t bend his will to that of Hajime’s at every chance he could. But he was no more used to them than he’d been during the first. They were far beyond his comprehension. Still, it was incredibly touching that Hajime would always go out of his way to emphasize that Nagito was a person of value. 

Nagito bobbed his head just once.

“Alright. So anywho, what’re you looking for, at the moment?”


	12. Chapter 12

Lying on his stomach sideways across the disheveled bed in his cottage, chin resting on the hot skin of Hajime’s chest and tracing invisible patterns on his sternum with one finger of his prosthetic hand, Nagito sighed.

He felt Hajime tense up, especially where his hand rested in the top of his matted white hair. So he dropped his own hand flat and looked up at him.

“Oh, did I disturb you with my noisiness?” He asked, lifting his chin just slightly. His eyes were still half-lidded, and felt almost sticky, but he did his best to open them a little wider as he peered up toward the face above where he was snuggled.

At first the only response was a mildly irritated sounding snort.

“You were  _ breathing _ , Nagito. You’re fine. You disturb me plenty, but now was not one of those times. I was just lost in thought.” Came the groggy voice, annoyed. Unsurprisingly.

Nagito lowered his head again, and drummed his fingers lightly against the other boy's ribcage. It was considerably less sharp than his own, and yet equally if not more prominent, given the sheer circumference of his chest. Which rose and fell rhythmically beneath his cheek.

“I only asked because I noticed that you seemed bothered, but it’s entirely possible that someone like me is wholly unable to read an individual of your caliber in such a manner.” He apologized, in his way. Just about ready to let his eyes sink shut again. But Hajime didn’t seem to want that.

Now  _ he  _ sighed.

Unlike the neutral contentment Nagito’s had conveyed, however, Hajime’s sounded frustrated. 

“That’s… I’m not mad at you for asking. I’m mad that you think you have to, even right now.”

Nagito quirked a brow at this, but Hajime wasn’t looking at him, still. He was staring, creased-brow, at the ceiling.

“Oh?” Was all he said. Unsure of what to say that wouldn’t only inflame the strange tension, and not wanting to do so, for once.

Hajime pulled himself up by the headboard of his bed, sitting up slightly, causing Nagito’s head to slip down and rest in his lap, now. Nagito took his hand away, curling it at his side instead.

“Why are you here?” Hajime asked, suddenly, voice less relaxed than before. Nagito rolled to his back so he could meet the eyes boring down on him.

“I thought you  _ wanted _ me to stay, after… At least for a little while. If you’ve changed your mind or I somehow misinterpreted your desires, I can get out of your hair immediately.” He offered, but made no move to do so, yet. He would enjoy every last moment he could.

Hajime rubbed his eyes almost wearily.

“I did! I  _ do _ . I’m not asking why you’re still here today, right this second, I’m asking why you keep coming back. What do  _ you _ get out of this?” When his hand dropped away, he was staring at Nagito again, looking bewildered.

Nagito raised his eyebrows. He had thought it was fairly obvious what he got out of this, but perhaps this was a moment of reserve course simpleness peaking through.

“I don’t really think that matters as long as you’re enjoying yourself, Hajime.  _ But _ ,” he continued, as he was leveled with a dark Look of exponentially increasing intensity, “It’s not as though I don’t also get the same physical pleasure you do. I thought my reactions to you whenever we spend the night together were self-explanatory, but I can see now that was a miscalculation on my part. I’ll be sure to show you my enthusiasm more clearly, next time.”

“ _ Ugh, _ ” Hajime groaned, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose right where his tightly knit brows had to be creating the most tension in his facial muscles. 

Nagito almost reached up to brush his fingertips over the back of his knuckles as he did this, but stopped himself before he gave into such a self-indulgent impulse.

“I can’t believe you had the audacity to mock my intelligence, before, because you are  _ seriously _ dense.” Hajime stated bluntly (Nagito pointedly making no move to disagree). And then exhaled slowly before going on. “I want to know— why me, why  _ this _ ? Haven’t we talked about how you deserve nice things? You deserve to have things you want, and to go after them? And things that’re more than just, like, simple immediate satisfaction? Things like real aspirations or dreams, or whatever you—“

“We have, and while I don’t exactly agree, I take what you say to me to heart. And I do.” Nagito interrupted, surprised that he was not the one rambling.

“Do what?”

“I do have dreams. Or… desires, I suppose? At least one, anyway. But that’s a start.”

Hajime looked perplexed. Pleasantly so. If one could  _ be _ pleasantly perplexed.

“What...is it?” He asked in a way that teetered on the edge of shyly. He was looking at Nagito like he wasn’t positive he wanted to know, but as though he needed to anyway.

“I want to let myself hope.” As he said this, he watched Hajime’s face cross through about 15 different expressions, conveying nearly the entire range of human emotion, the final one appearing to be a blend of sadness and utter exasperation.

“ _ Nagito _ —“ He started sternly, but Nagito didn’t let him finish.

“It might sound like an unimportant distinction to make, but while there’s nothing I value more than the general notion of people finding hope and using it to motivate them toward even greater hope, I don’t often think about what  _ I  _ hope for. On the small scale. And on the occasions when I have stopped to do so, recently, it’s occurred to me that I don’t let myself have small, personal hopes. Because they seem secondary, out of reach, and more than I deserve. This is along the lines of what you’ve pointed out to me, since we’ve spent time together, that I don’t want things for myself and that I need to do that, sometimes. Well, I want to hope for something selfish, I want to hope for  _ myself _ . That’s what I want.” He tried to explain, eyes almost going glossy as he thought about what he was admitting. In moments like these he could actually see a difference between past and present versions of himself, even if only for a brief second.

Hajime was silent for a minute, processing. He often did this, where he seemed almost out of body when he was thinking, disconnected from the place he was in, but if you looked close enough you could see the cogs turning behind his sharp eyes. But he returned from that faraway look quickly, now.

“So, how’s it going for you, then? Why aren’t you, like, doing anything about moving toward what you hope for?”

“Huh? I’m not sure. It’s going well, I think, but it’s not like I’d really know. And I  _ am _ , Hajime.”

“You  _ so _ aren’t, you spend most of your time with me, not that I mind, of course, but  _ still _ , or alone in your cottage doing god knows what, or staring at everyone here in a combo of awe and disgust when we’re all just, I don’t know, eating breakfast or cleaning the hotel or whatever. Where in all that are you trying to get something for yourself?”

“I’m aware of how I spend my time. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m getting what I want for myself, that's still a bit beyond me, but I’m letting myself  _ hope _ for it. And I think that’s… big. Because it’s not as though I deserve what I want, or that it’d be fair for me to have it, or even  _ lucky _ . It’s one thing that’s out of the hands of fate, I think. Which makes it all the more frightening and exhilarating to hope for. And that’s more than enough. It’s... cool.”

“Nagito,” Hajime started, gently, “I mean, I’m proud of you for at least considering your own wants, but I don’t think just acknowledging that you're a person and allowed to desire things is really fully fleshing out the whole personal growth thing. Y’know?”

Sometimes Hajime’s encouragement felt like a breeze that was frustrated it couldn’t move the mountain of Nagito’s typical self-image by blowing on it. 

Sometimes it kind of hurt. 

Not that he’d say that to him, because it wasn’t as though the hurt wasn’t something he’d earned for himself, or worth the time to address. Nor would he want to bother Hajime with it, given that he’d been more than cruel enough to him when he didn’t deserve it, and Hajime had welcomed him back into his life after they all got out with _warmth_. Above and beyond simple kindness. Was still doing it. And he knew just having him around so often had to be bother enough, no matter how much he insisted it wasn’t. Nagito didn’t understand why Hajime pretended that wasn’t the case, why he tried _so_ _hard_.

“I’m sorry to disappoint.” He answered shortly.

Hajime rubbed his temple.

“Can you  _ just _ — why don’t you let me help you get what you want? What even is it, anyway? Can you tell me  _ what  _ it is that you hope for?”

“ _ You are. _ ” Nagito said adamantly.

“Oh my god. That’s not— Just tell me w—“ Hajime was getting angry now, his face was scrunched up and radiating waves of irritated heat from his pink cheeks.

“No, Hajime,  _ You _ .  _ Are _ . It’s you, I’m letting myself hope for  _ you _ .”

Hajime blinked at Nagito’s calm face, only the sound of their out of sync breathing hanging in the air, for a moment.

  
  
  
  


. . .

  
  
  
  
  


“Wha-what?”

  
  
  


_ As expected. _

  
  
  


“I know it must be repulsive to spend any of your time and mental energy thinking about, which is exactly why I was content only to have got to the point of letting myself hope and to remain there, but it’s you that I hope for, that I  _ want _ . My selfish wish. That you would deign to…” he swallowed thickly, “To not want me only as a stepping stone or as a temporary, fleeting fascination, or way to pass the time, but as a friend. As something with value to you. An impossible goal for scum like me, of course, especially to want from someone like you.”

Nagito almost flinched at the look Hajime was giving him. Almost. It was achingly sad and righteously pissed and strikingly tender all at once. Nearly flinch-worthy, so close, but not quite. It did send a shiver up his spine, however.

Hajime reached out to touch his cheek, hand shaking a little, like he was scared Nagito might crumble to dust from the gentle press of his fingertips, as if he hadn’t plowed him into the mattress just the night before. Nagito watched the entire movement intently, but kept his face serene, despite the high pitched ringing he felt inside that he couldn’t determine the source of–but it was either his head or his heart.

Hajime’s thumb ran along the hollow of Nagito’s cheekbone.

“Do you seriously still think I find you repulsive? We… we’ve been fucking multiple times a week for a while now. We’re definitely…  _ friends _ . How can you even think we’re less than that? And, I keep telling you not to talk about yourself like that— you can be annoying, and obnoxious, and a lot to handle, but that doesn’t make you ‘scum’, Nagito. You’re flawed, sure, but no more or less than the rest of us. We’re all talented, and we’re all fucked up. And I might be the most fucked up of all,  _ and  _ I used to be nobody, as you’ve said yourself, so why are you so convinced I don’t actually like you? That I  _ can’t _ ? Why do you  _ think _ I keep coming around you?”

Nagito shrugged, not looking back at Hajime’s very direct gaze.

“I’ve been wondering that, myself. Because I’m fairly sure it can’t be luck—it’s too consistent, and it should be interfered with by  _ your _ luck, were that was what was at play. Pity, maybe? Sheer kindness? Convenience, as I’m always around and would gladly do anything for you? Maybe I remind you, somehow, despite being a downgrade in comparison with  _ anyone _ , of someone and something you once had? I don’t know. I think about it, but it seems unproductive to think too much about, so I put my energy into other things. Like trying my best not to be a total nuisance to you and all our friends. I have more than I would ever dare to ask for, Hajime. I don’t see the need to push, and forgive my choice of words, my luck, here.”

Hajime’s eyes softened. He tilted his head, holding Nagito’s face a little tighter as his eyebrows drew together again. He inhaled deeply, as if to steady himself. Nagito couldn’t even begin to read what he was thinking.

“Have you ever considered, for even just a second, that  _ I  _ want to be around you? And not just to… hookup or whatever? That it’s  _ my  _ selfish want? That despite the pedestal you put  _ everyone _ , but most of all  _ me _ on, I’m just one guy with my own needs, motivations—  _ hopes _ ? That I spend all this time trying to teach you that you’re worth something because I wholeheartedly know that you are, because even  _ if  _ you weren’t  _ objectively _ , you’re worth something to  _ me _ ? Do you think I don’t know how much  _ care _ you have inside for everyone and everything, and for some fucking reason, for me? Nagito, just because you don’t mean anything to yourself doesn’t mean that’s how anybody else feels. Dammit, I hope for  _ you _ for myself  _ too _ , you weirdo.”

Hajime finished his monologue, breathing a little more rapid than he had been a minute ago.

Nagito was silent, and perfectly still, and in contrast to the other boy, not even breathing, for just a little too long, before he looked back into Hajime’s mismatched eyes. He felt caught, stuck. Lost.

“That’s not… I can’t… that doesn’t make sense.” Was all he could manage.

Hajime shook his head.

“You’re wrong. It makes a perfectly normal amount of sense. But even if it didn’t, who cares? It’s true, and it’s what you want, and what I want. Forget about ‘deserve’ and ‘worthy’ and all that, it’s what’s happening and what’s real and it’s  _ good.  _ So just— take it. Enjoy it. I like you. You like me. Let’s just be together.  _ Simple _ .”

Nagito laughed, on impulse, the sound catching in the back of his throat as he tried to handle the shock (an emotion he was pretty unused to, until recently) he was feeling. It helped that Hajime was softly weaving his hand into Nagito’s hair. It felt grounding.

He took a breath.

“I don’t think I’d call any of this simple, but… I think that if this is the result of our hopes matching up, the least I can do is try not to ruin it with too much disbelief, I guess.” Nagito replied, heart in his throat, feeling tears prick at his eyes. He blinked.

Nodding, Hajime smiled at him.

“Good plan.”

Attempting to steady his heart and breathing, Nagito nuzzled into Hajime’s touch, closing his eyes.

“I don’t understand you.” He said, completely lovingly. Hajime snorted in response.

“ _ You  _ don’t understand  _ me _ ?” He muttered back, incredulously but his voice still soft.

Nagito shook his head.

“No, and I don’t get why that’s surprising to you.”

“I guess it’s not, or shouldn’t be, since if you did you would’ve grasped the concept that I like and care about you way sooner, but… it’s just kinda funny. Y’know, coming from a master of confusing behavior, mixed signals, obfuscation, and whatever.” Hajime replied, a slight hint of teasing in his voice.

Nagito propped himself up a little, chin in his hand, raising an eyebrow at Hajime, who just looked at him sweetly, unaware.

“Hajime, I may have misled you in a lot of ways, and been deceitful and cryptic, and had motivations that were hard to understand, but I have not been unclear about my feelings for you. Not really, anyway. I’ve always been pretty direct with what I thought of you, mostly for the best but occasionally for the worse. Frankly, you’re the one who apparently was misrepresenting what you felt.”

“What? What do you–  _ oh _ .” Hajime blushed deeply as he seemed to remember what Nagito was referencing. “You did sort of confess to me, yeah. I think it didn’t really register that way, though, because of everything else going on, and what happened after.”

Nagito was aghast.

“‘Sort of’? Forget everything else, I told you I love you. And was in love with what was inside you. In what world is that a ‘ _ sort of _ ’ confession?” He asked, sounding incredulous himself, now. “Also in the program, when I was sick? I said the opposite of what I meant and you still accepted it as truth. I had an excuse to be saying the exact opposite of what I felt, what was yours?”

Hajime, bright red but smiling, laughed. He took Nagito’s face in his hands.

“I’m an idiot?” He offered.

Nagito rolled his eyes, leaning up toward Hajime for a kiss.

“We both are.”

  
  
  


Truer words had never been said. But at least they were each others’. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first fic I’ve actually finished writing in a hot minute, and maybe that’s due to the fact that I’m hyperfixating at the moment, but either way, I’m just a little proud to have actually stuck it out. Thanks for reading!!! I have some ideas for other danganronpa stuff in the near future, so, stick around for that, I guess! LmaO


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